I Can't Live Without You
by NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: Set just after the 100th episode of Bones. A tragedy befalls our favourite anthropologist. Can Booth be the shoulder to cry on? No flaming, if you don't like it, don't review it. Simple
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I thought I'd try my hand at writing a Bones fanfiction because I haven't before and I thought it would be fun. So be nice. This is set just a couple of weeks after the 100****th**** episode and doesn't really follow the series very much to be honest… but that's just my take on it. Enjoy (and review if you love me) I own nothing… unfortunately… I would like to own Booth, but you know, only borrowing him for a while, him and the rest that is. **

Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist, sat at her desk, absent-mindedly doodling on the pad on the desk in front of her. The strange thing was, Temperance Brennan didn't _do _absent-minded. Period. She was a scientist, in every sense of the word. She was a scientist, or, she was _most_ of the time – except now of course. Right now she was… distracted, confused. It had a little, no, a lot, to do with Booth's confessions from the weeks before. It had been two weeks since his confession, two meagre weeks that had shaken her world up like a snow globe, and the pieces were still settling, still finding the right place to fit. His confessions made her dizzy with excitement, crumbled her mental shields until trying to fix them was a major undertaking that required complete mental focus. Which, as of two weeks ago, she sorely lacked. The mental shields were holding in place all the feelings she'd squashed down, hidden away deep in her subconscious, had suddenly risen up again until a wave of sadness threatened to drown her. She looked down at the top of the desk, the defaced top sheet of the pad covered in black doodles that had flowed, almost without her realising it, from her mind. As she looked at, a slightly amused grin appeared on her face, which was quickly smothered by a wave of despair as she realised her desk was also covered in doodles.

'Damn.' She muttered as the jumbled shapes suddenly sorted themselves into a single, replicating shape that varied occasionally. Hearts. So many hearts that filled the page as if another hand had traced them all over the clean white expanse of the page. She reached for an antibacterial wipe and scrubbed the desk, tingeing the damp white surface of it black. She scrubbed vigorously until they had all vanished, gone in a flash as if they'd never been in the first place. She knew that the phrase: 'Think with your heart' was incorrect, as the heart was a muscle, incapable of conscious thought, directed by the brain to beat at different speed depending on emotion. Yet every time she thought of him her heart gave a pained, struggling beat that was almost of longing. Feeling like this was ridiculous, she'd already told him she couldn't… incapable of changing, wanting to, longing to, but incapable. And it hurt; hurt so much, until she was almost unable to bear the pain of it all. Slowly, she capped her pen and let it escape from her hand to roll across her desk and fall with a quiet thud on the floor. Sighing softly, she decided to get it, sweeping it into the palm of her hand and depositing it on her desk. She was about to fling herself in her chair when Booth walked in, a smile on his face that made her heart melt.

'Morning Bones.' He breezed, grinning.

'It's afternoon.'

'So? Bones, it's the principal of the fact.'

'Well I don't see your point, I mean, you say morning when it is clearly afternoon.'

'Well… I… let's start again.' He was clearly flustered, and looked down at his feet. 'Now, hello, Bones.'

'Better. So what brings you here?'

'Oh… did I neglect to mention that there's some bones in need of a forensic anthropologist, you, in a landfill down south?'

'You did.' She replied, keeping her voice as even as she could.

'Oh…' He looked troubled, no doubt worried about his slip-up, concerned it may be a lingering after-affect of the extensive and invasive neurosurgery he had undertaken not all that long ago.

'Well… are we going?' She pressed, already walking towards the changing rooms where she could find her blue jumpsuit.

'Oh yeah, sorry. I'll get your coat.'

'I can do it.' She jumped back like a wounded cat, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair where it was hanging and winging it over her shoulder. 'I need to get my field clothes on anyway.'

'Okay, I'll see you at the car then? Five minutes?' Booth pressed, a humourless smile gracing his face.

'Yeah… fine.'

**oOo**

Five minutes and exactly thirty five seconds later, Brennan was somewhat surprised to find herself in an unusual position. Somehow, in a nearly impossible feat, she'd manage to fail at putting on a one piece, button up jumpsuit. She was stuck in a very awkward position, one arm was somehow tangled up behind her and a scrap of blue material covered her eyes. Just as she was trying to figure out a way to escape, Booth walked in. He saw her and immediately did a double take, his eyes widening slightly and a highly amused grin splitting his face.

'What on Earth…?' He muttered, giving her a concerned look. She shrugged, somewhat uncomfortable and gave him an embarrassed look, staring down at the floor through her eyelashes.

'I uh… had an argument with my jumpsuit…' she said weakly, trying to disengage herself from the offending item of dark blue clothing.

'Want some help?' He asked softly, already standing right by her side, ready to help in any way she could.

'I…' She deliberated for a second, verging on telling him to keep his hands to himself and that she could work it out for herself. She was a scientist for God's sake, yet his warm hands were already flitting across her back and slowly beginning to help her escape from her blue cotton prison. She felt the tightness around her arms and stomach suddenly become looser and she rolled her shoulders experimentally, revelling in the release she got from the harsh cutting in of the clothes that was finally released.

'There we go.' He muttered, pulling the jumpsuit up her back and stepping away, averting his eyes as she button it up at the front.

'Thanks… I guess.' She muttered, her fingers flying over the buttons as she did them up, fumbling over the top one. She caught him looking, a wistful look on her face, and immediately resolved to do it up as soon as she could, her fingers flashing as the two pieces joined. She turned towards him, automatically smoothing the legs down and leading him out into the watery sunlight.

**oOo**

'Where were you? We expected you at least twenty minutes ago.' Were the first words that came from the landfill manager's mouth as they pulled up on sight.

'Sorry…' Brennan said softly.

'My partner here,' Booth gestured to Brennan, who sat, head bowed slightly, smiled meekly. 'Had a major wardrobe malfunction today.'

'Really?' He looked her up and down and she just _knew _that he was checking her out.

'Anyway.' The sleazy man muttered, tearing his leery gaze from Brennan. 'It's over here, follow me.' She noticed the way he shuddered when he talked about the body – a sign of a highly squeamish person. She squinted a little and noticed the skeletal hand jutting out from the rubbish that filled the air with their cloying stink, filling every last point of her vision bar the sky in which clouds scudded erratically along.

'Fascinating…' She knelt and examined the skeletal remains with a gloved hand, her latex covered fingers catching slightly on the emaciated skin and decaying flesh surrounding the bones.

'That's… wonderfully joyful Bones. Anywho, can we get the… thing, back into the lab? Please?' Booth asked stoically, glancing away.

'Oh but of course, I'd love any chance to examine this further. It may be a homicide case but I'll need this back at the lab anyway.' Booth shuddered but raised a hand, signalling to the loitering coroner type men nearby for the body to be removed.

**oOo**

'Okay… that's definitely different anyway.' Cam murmured, looking down at the emaciated leathery skin of the corpse lying on the underlit table in front of her.

'Not really, if I recall we have had a few like this before?'

'Well yes, but this one… I don't know, is stranger than most.'

'In what way?' Brennan looked highly fascinated, eagerness shining from her face.

'Don't worry.'

'Oh… okay. Have you seen Booth since the body came in?' Cam looked at her, a slight frown creasing her eyebrows.

'I haven't… you should go talk to him.'

'I think I will. Get someone to find a way to remove the flesh. Call me when it's done. I'll see you later.' Cam smiled and watched her friend hurry away from the Jeffersonian.

**Review if you enjoyed it. It shall continue, I swear!**


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, please review because it has none :( I appreciate the favourites truly I do, but I don't know how I can make it better without reviews. So one? Please? Enjoy :D

'Angela! Hey, Angela! Angela Montenegro!' Brennan called her friend's name as the other woman walked a little in front of her down the long corridor of the Jeffersonian Institute.

'Oh, hey Brennan, what's up?'

'I assume you mean, what's wrong, because otherwise there is an endless list of things that are up in the sky, for example: clouds, the ceiling, planets…' Brennan trailed off as she saw Angela's face.

'You assumed correctly.'

'Right. I was wondering if you'd seen Booth since we got back?'

'No sorry. And back from where, somewhere nasty?'

'Well if you count a landfill as nasty, then yes.'

'Why were you in a landfill…?'

'We have a case.'

'Oh… do you need me yet?' Angela looked vaguely interested.

'No, I was just wondering if you'd seen Booth. But you haven't so… I'll call you when I need you.'

'Well okay. Just let me warn you, he seemed a little downcast…'

'Downcast?'

'Yeah, he looked more than a little preoccupied to tell you the truth.' Angela told her with an air of apology. Brennan contemplated this for a second.

'Did he say where he was going?'

'He muttered something about going home I think.' Angela supplied, giving Brennan a cautious smile and continuing down the corridor. Brennan stared after her for less than a split-second before sprinting as fast as she could towards the watery sunlight outside.

**oOo**

Special Agent Seeley Booth sat in his car outside Brennan's apartment building, ignoring the fact that she wasn't actually in and… SHIT! There she was! Booth ducked below the level of sight, which was under the dashboard, whacking his head painfully in the process. What in God's name (Booth quickly apologized) was she doing home? She had bones to examine back at the Jeffersonian. He stayed ducked low, cramps racing down his back, as the position grew more uncomfortable by the second. He forced himself to remain in the crouched position that was half-under the dashboard of his car. After a minute or two, he found it impossible to stay in the position and removed himself from under the dashboard until he was back in his seat, hands straying down his back and massaging the cramp away. He gave a sigh if relief and shuddered as he uncurled, feeling blood rush to his legs, lessening the tingling. He chanced a glance at the clock on the dashboard and rubbed a hand wearily over his face. What he wanted to do now was explain everything about that night, a little over a fortnight ago to her, wanted to tell her how her rejection had only made his feelings for her stronger. After a few minutes, he realised that something was wrong; Brennan would have been out by now if she needed to get back to the lab in time. He slowly slid from his car and walked towards her building, feet dragging along the pavement. His feeling of unease deepened when he rang her buzzer and there was no reply. He knew she was in, so why didn't she answer. He rang the bell next to hers with a feeling of foreboding and quickly sorted an explanation as to why when the woman simply opened the door to him.

'Oh.' He muttered, cricking his neck back in time to see a woman give him a bland smile. Booth nodded briefly and entered the building heading towards her apartment.

**oOo**

Booth paused outside her door and knocked softly, listening to hear something, anything. There was no reply save for a long drawn out sob that made his skin crawl.

'Bones?' He called gently, his voice still too loud in the silence. A slightly louder sob and then a quiet thud. He knocked again on her door, anxiety beginning to set in as he heard no reply.

'Brennan?' Again there was no reply.

'Temperance?' He whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear him. He fumbled in his pocket for the spare key he had to her apartment, for emergencies, and slotted it clumsily in the lock. She was sitting against the wall with her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees, black streaks of mascara filled tears running across her face, soaking the black cotton slacks she was wearing. Booth shoved the door shut and sank to his knees beside her, one hand resting on her arm.

'Bones?' She raised her head a fraction and let her phone drop from her hand.

'It's… Booth… I… It's Russ…'

'Your brother?'

'Y-y-yes…'

'What's happened? Has he been arrested again?'

'N-no… he's… he's…' She choked on the word and slumped on his shoulder.

'What's happened?'

'H-h-he's been killed.' Booth nearly fell over.

'Excuse me?'

'He's dead… B-Booth he's dead.' As she told him, the reality seemed to set in and she fell against his arm, eyes closed. Booth shuddered and lifted her up as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. He carried her through until he was in her bedroom and laid her gently on the bed, one hand stroking her forehead as she slept. He walked out of her room, sidling into the kitchen and hanging her phone up back where it should be, and then sitting down on her couch, running a hand through his hair. Brennan's brother had been killed, and now she was alone apart from her father and distant cousin. She'd lost the closest thing she'd had for a long time whilst she was young and now… did she need him? At all? He just couldn't sit still, and paced around her small apartment, walking all over until he could stand it no longer and slid back into her bedroom, watching her breathe. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from crying, and her hair was a tangle mess, but he sat on the side of the bed beside her and took her slim hand in his own.

**What did you think? Please tell me :)**


	3. Chapter 3

You like the last chapter? Thanks to: RowdyRomantic, BBforever23 and Dancin' Phalanges for the reviews. I love you very muchly :)

Booth noticed, albeit belatedly, that Brennan was still completely dressed in black slacks, cotton shirt and a tight black jacket. He ran a hand softly down one of her arms and the paused for a second. What if she woke up whilst he was… undressing her? Would she mind, or even care that he was undressing her, making her more comfortable. He deliberated a second longer before removing her tight jacket and hanging it over the back of her chair, smoothing the soft material still warm with the remnants of her body-heat. As quietly as he could, he rummaged around in her drawer for a nightshirt and unbuttoned her shirt, pulling the over-large nightshirt over her head, soothing her as she awoke for a second.

'Temperance?' He murmured soothingly, stroking her hair softly with one hand.

'B-Booth? You stayed?'

'You bet I did. Can you take off your slacks, I feel weird doing it and you can't sleep like that.' Brennan looked down and tried to undo her slacks with hands trembling with grief and failed miserably. Booth looked at her and she begged him with her eyes, looking pathetically up at him through eyelashes matted with tears. He quickly removed them and cast his gaze around the room, resting on a blanket hanging part of the way out of her wardrobe and walked towards it. She pulled the nightshirt down and let him drape the blanket around her trembling shoulders.

'Get some sleep.' He whispered, kissing her forehead softly. He left her room and waited until he heard her breathing alter with sleep. He shut the door with a muted click and slipped like a shadow into her kitchen, musing slightly over what he would and could cook. He browsed her cupboards until he found something he could cook. Pasta. How far wrong can you go with pasta and a jar of sauce?

**oOo**

Booth was juggling cooking and keeping one ear open for Brennan when her phone rang.

'Shit! That was just what I needed!' He muttered, adjusting the pan of boiling pasta on the stove before leaping for the phone.

'Brennan's phone.'

'Booth?' Cams' somewhat surprised voice sounded down the phone.

'Yes? Brennan can't come to the phone at the moment. May I take a message?'

'Booth? What the hell?!' Cams surprised tone crackled down the line to him; and he could almost see her standing in the corridor, looking around in surprise as she heard his voice coming towards her through the phone line.

'As I said, Brennan can't come to the phone. I'm sorry.'

'Yes, I know, but why are _you_ here?' Booth had no answer to that, and waited for Cam to start speaking again.

'I… went to see her and… oh crap! One second!' Booth darted around the kitchen and turned down the pasta bubbling over on the stove, scalding a small area of skin on his hand as he did so.

'Okay… what was that?' Cam asked. Booth gave a resigned sigh, knowing he couldn't lie to his friend.

'I'm… cooking?' He added hopefully as Cam spluttered.

'Cooking!?' Booths culinary expertise, or lack thereof, was renowned in the team and throughout the entire Jeffersonian.

'Yes, cooking.'

'Okay now I'm worried.'

'Fine! I'm at Brennan's because she's had some bad news, and I'm making her feel better by being here, doing basic things. I'm being her friend!'

'What type of news?' Cam asked, irritated.

'Family related. Now if you don't mind…'

'I do mind! She has work to do, bones to examine, a team to work with! We need her, like now!' Cam exclaimed furiously.

'She's not coming in. She'll call you later. Goodbye, Cam.' Booth ended the call and resumed cooking, casting occasional glances towards Brennans' bedroom door. When he had sprinkled it with cheese and placed the pasta under the grill, he knocked softly on the panelled wood before slipping almost silently inside. She was still asleep; her hair was a snarled mess that was in desperate need of a brush and her eyes were tightly closed. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and squeezing it softly in order to waken her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she rolled over slightly, reciprocating the pressure he was exerting.

'I made you something to eat…'

'Thanks, it won't poison me will it?' She looked at him with frightened eyes, no trace of humour in them.

'I promise it won't.' Brennan sat up and let Booth pull her to her feet, let him warp his warm arm around her waist to keep her upright. He let her lean her head on his shoulder, let her wrap both of her arms around his waist and took her weight, leading her into the kitchen.

'I don't really feel like eating, or food in general right now.' She told him softly when she was sat down, rubbing her eyes in a vain attempt to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. Booth tactfully decided not to notice.

'You need to eat.'

'I know.' She tried to smile as he placed the plate in front of her, but the muscles in her face weren't responding.

'Cam called…' Booth was unaware of how to put it delicately, but he'd obviously phrased it wrong as her face turned a nasty ashy grey colour.

'Do they want me back at work…? I can't Booth, physically can't. I'm not ready yet… it's too fresh. I can't! I just can't!' She started to cry again, so Booth was by her side in an instant, wrapping his strong arms around her and comforting her with a soft touch on her shoulder blade.

'I said you'd phone her back later. Can you do that?' Brennan gave a tremulous nod.

'I can manage that. Give me the phone.' Booth smiled a little and handed her his cell, dialling Cam's number from memory. After two rings, Cam answered, her voice brisk and clipped.

'Booth?'

'Nice guess. You guys have a nice chat.' He silently handed the phone to Brennan, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

'Cam?' Brennans voice was weak, neatly inaudible.

'Brennan! Oh thank God, we need you!'

'I'm not coming in, I can't face it.'

'What do you mean?'

'I got a phone call today, from the police.'

'What's happened?'

'It's my brother…' Brennan gulped and trailed off, tears spilling down her cheeks again.

'Russ?'

'Y-yes.'

'What's happened to him?'

'He's been killed Cam.' Brennan folded the phone shut and slid out of her chair, heading for her bedroom. Booth ran after her, grabbing her hand. Angrily, she shoved him off, slamming the door in his face.

**Grief makes you do strange things huh? Enjoyed? Tell me!**


	4. Chapter 4

Wahey! We have some Max in this chapter, or, nicknamed by my friends: Inappropriate Dad. And some Hodgins playing tricks on Cam. Then depressedness. Enjoy :D

Cam folded her phone down with a nerveless finger, a cold chill spreading throughout her body that followed the numbness, emptying her of emotion. She was, just existing, devoid of feeling until a sound brought her back to the present with a crash. After a second or so, she hurried towards Angela's domain, trying to remain at least a little scrap of her dignity.

'Angela!' Angela poked her head around the door, a lock of curly brown hair swinging in front of her face as she did so. She raised a hand to push away the offending curl and nearly toppling out of the doorway.

'Cam?'

'Did Brennan… um, call you?' Cam didn't know whether this was an infringement if Brennans' privacy, but decided that letting her best friend know and understand was far more important.

'Nope, why?'

'Ah… well I…' Cam steered Angela into a chair and sat her down, breathing heavily through her teeth as she tried to steel herself. 'Brennan's brother.'

'Russ?'

'Yes, Russ. He's been killed. I'm sorry Angela, sorry she didn't tell you, sorry I had to tell you… just, sorry.'

'No, I totally understand.' Angela looked shaken, shaking her head in numb disbelief. 'Is… is Brennan okay?' Angela gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, mentally noting to call her best friend as soon as she had the time to.

'Booth's looking after her.'

'Oh.' Angela sighed. 'You should let everyone else know.'

'Do you think she'll mind?' Cam asked tensely.

'They have a right to know.'

'But what if she wants to keep it private, deal with it in secret?'

'Cam sweetie, she told you. Let the rest know okay?' Cam nodded and walked briskly down the corridor, catching sight of Hodgins as she did so.

'Hodgins!' She called, following him.

'Cam? Am I, uh, in trouble or something? Because I didn't, um, put that stuff in your desk. No way, not me, In fact, I know nothing about it. Uh-uh, no way.' Cam stopped for a second, casting him a very pointed glance.

'What's in my desk, Hodgins?'

'Nothing… I mean, there will be nothing. I promise.' Cam nodded, unconvinced, until he smiled a million-dollar smile. 'You wanted me?'

'Oh, yes. Can you get whoever's supposed to be working with Brennan that she won't be in today. Now I have to run, so let everyone know, _nicely_, that she won't be in today. If you want to know why, ask Angela. Now I really have to go.'

'Why not?'

'Like I said, ask Angela.'

'Why does Angela know?'

'Just ask her okay?' Suddenly there was a shriek of laughter from down the hall in the direction of her office. She scowled at Hodgins. It looked like she was about to find out exactly what was in her desk.

**oOo**

Booth heard a knock on the door and cautiously made his way over to it, pausing before he opened it. He thought it was odd, seeing as whoever wanted to come in had to ring the intercom and he hadn't heard it go. Which means the person outside the door had a key. Which also meant that the person behind the door was…

'Max.' Booth said dryly to Brennan's father as he stepped inside, a wide grin on his face.

'Seeley! You finally moved in then hey? That's great news!' Max grinned wider. Booth stared at Max with an expression of disbelief.

'Uh, no.'

'Then why are you here?'

'Have the police not got in contact with you?'

'No, they couldn't, I've been staying with a friend for a while. Why?'

'You… you don't… know?'

'Know what?' Was this man serious?

'About Russ?'

'Got himself arrested again did he? Definitely my son then hey?' He nudged Booths arm and winked.

'Uh, no.'

'Oh,' Max pondered this for a second before turning his attention back to Booth. 'So where's my lovely daughter then?'

'In the bedroom…' And there was the hole he had to try and dig himself out of.

'Really?' Max winked.

'Not like that! I'll be back in a second. Please excuse me Max.' Booth avoided Max's gaze that reeked of sexual euphemisms and slipped into Brennan's room.

'Hey,' He murmured, shaking her shoulder gently.

'I thought I shut you out.'

'No, your dad's here Bones.'

'Oh! What time is it?'

'Typical you. Half nine.'

'Oh, thanks.' Booth pulled Brennan up and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and grabbed his hand.

'He doesn't know.'

'What?!'

'The police obviously couldn't get in touch with him.'

'I have to tell him…'

'I'm sorry but yes. Are you ready for this.'

'I guess so.' He leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips only just brushing her cheek.

'You are now,'

**oOo**

'Angelaaaa! Please?' Hodgins was begging to know why Brennan was away; she'd never had a day off before this in her life.

'No, not until I've talked to her.'

'Please?'

'No.'

'Please?'

'No.'

'Please?'

'No.'

'Please?'

'No, how long are you going to keep this up?'

'Until you tell me. Please?'

'Grow up.'

'I am. Please?'

'No.'

'C'mon Angela, Cam told me to ask _you!'_

'She did?

'Yes, now please?'

'I… no.'

'Please? Come on Angela, please? Seriously, I want to know.'

'I… okay… fine.'

'So?'

'Russ, you know, her brother…?' Hodgins nodded, resting his chin on his cupped hands. 'He's been killed.'

'What?! No way, that's terrible. I feel… really bad.'

'You should.'

**Reviewsies?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Yay chapter 5! A little more of inappropriate dad in this chapter, and some Booth/Brennan closeness and possible cuteness/love. Also, I appreciate the favourites and story alerts, but if you had time to do that, you have time to review? Pretty please?**

'Temperance?' Max looked overjoyed to see his daughter, despite her rumpled nightshirt and generally dishevelled appearance. He smiled at her and the smile made his face light up, melting away years of pain and sadness.

'Hey dad.' She felt her knees give way, so grabbed a handful of Booths shirt, trusting him to hold her weight. He did so, not commenting on her weakness, not showing the strain. He squeezed her hand a little, reassuring her that everything was okay, holding her up, not speaking, and simply being.

'Y'allrighty honey?'

'H-h-haven't y-you heard?' She was crying again, although making a gallant effort to keep the tears at bay, screwing her eyes tightly shut and clenching her teeth until it hurt. She felt a flood of warmth across her back as Booth tightened his grip around her waist, one hand gently tracing small circles on her hip through the thin cotton material of her nightshirt.

'Heard what? About Russ? Your highly handsome friend here,' Max tipped Booth a wink before carrying on. 'Said there was something about Russ that the police wanted to talk to me about. I was just wondering if he got himself arrested again or something of that ilk?' He shot a pointed glance at Booth, clearly wondering whether Brennan and him were more than friends. Booth met his with a look that clearly said 'I wish' and placed a hand over his heart.

'It _is _about Russ dad… only it's not that simple. You see… he's… Russ is… he's been k-killed.' She choked out, the words catching in her throat.

'W-what? But… but he… he can't be…' Max seemed at a loss for words for a second.

'It's the truth.' Booth told him, squeezing Brennan tightly against his warm chest. Max stopped and stared, mouth opening and closing slowly in shock as he tried to comprehend what had happened.

'I…' He turned and bolted for the door, wrenching it open and tearing down the hallway as though the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels.

'He's going to get drunk…' She whispered, huddling against Booth as he stood rock steady, care emanating from every pore of his being.

'What?'

'When he gets drunk… he does things… things he regrets, he used to do it to me… and… Russ…' She trailed off, whimpering a little.

'I won't let him hurt you.' He promised, his breath ruffling her hair slightly.

'You don't _know _him! He'll find a way.'

'I promise he won't hurt you. I swear on my life.' Brennan looked at him, tears sparkling in her eyes.

'I trust you.' He cradled her against his chest until she slowly moved away, one hand trailing behind her in a gesture of longing. Booth instinctively reached for it, squeezing it and pulling her round to face him so that they were less than a centimetre apart.

'Bones…' He breathed, the word catching in his throat.

'Booth…' Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her hair was snarled behind her head. She stood in front of him, her hands resting lightly on his waist. He softly brought his hands round to cup her face with his warm fingers, gently tracing the drying tears that spread their vile blemishes across her beautiful features. She mewed softly at his touch and let out a whimper, one of her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. Slowly, Booth leaned forwards, waiting for her to reciprocate the motion. She did so, her lips only just brushing his. Softly, he ran a hand down her face, brushing a strand of her long hair out of it. Booth let a tear trickle between his fingers, let it fall and land on her chest. She smiled weakly and kissed him softly, letting herself forget the trauma of the past twelve hours, losing herself in his feel and scent. At that second, the phone rang, bringing them both back to the present with an unwelcome jolt.

**oOo**

'Pick up… c'mon Brennan… c'mon.'

'Brennan.'

'Oh thank God, it's Angela.'

'Oh, hi.'

'Are you okay?' Angela proceeded delicately with this question, unsure how Brennan would answer.

'I am not… nor I doubt, will I ever again.'

'Oh…' Angela paused for a second, ignoring Hodgins frantic attempts to grab her phone and talk to Brennan. 'What?' She hissed at him after a couple of silent moments on the other end of the line.

'Put it on speaker?'

'Oh.' She pressed a button and Brennans voice came across the room to every other person working in the Jeffersonian.

'Brennan, what happened?'

'I… my brother got killed. We don't know how, but the PD are investigating it.'

'Oh Brennan… I… it's awful.'

'I know, but Booth's looking after me.'

'That's sweet of him.' Angela smiled, happy that they'd finally either got it together or that Brennan had needed someone enough to turn to him.

'I guess it is.' Hodgins moved next to Angela.

'Brennan… how are you holding up?'

'I guess I'll be okay eventually.'

'Okay, you get some rest now.' Hodgins leant over and ended the call, handing the phone back to Angela. 'She needs some rest, Booth will look after her.'

'I think he is.' Angela gave him a dry smile as she said that.

'Yeah, he will, he's a good man Angela.' Angela looked sympathetically over at Hodgins.

'You're a good man too… but just, not now… it's still… you know…' Hodgins smiled at her.

'Yeah, I know.

Aloha! Shorter chapter I know, but you can enjoy it just the same. Please R&R if you love me muchly :D 


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay my very favourite people in the world *ahem, my reviewers ahem* but it's a new chapter :) I'm not sure where this is going yet, but of course, being me, I'll know when I get there. Reviewsies please. Enjoy ^_^**

Brennan put the phone down, her hand trembling slightly. Booth placed a hand softly on her arm, exerting a gentle pressure that caused a firework of emotions to explode and race around her brain, befuddling her already tired mind.

'Are you okay?' He whispered, his breath softly ruffling the hair that fell over her neck.

'I… tired… But I'm going back in tomorrow.'

'Bones, you can't seriously think…'

'I need to, I can't just mope around, try to understand.' She looked at him beseechingly, one hand still resting loosely on his shoulder.

'Okay, but I'm staying overnight. I'll crash on your couch if you want, or in my car if you don't want me here.'

'No. I want you to stay here. In case my dad comes back…' Her voice trailed off miserably, ending in a strange almost half-sob that she tried to hide. Resulting in a choking half-sob that broke off at the end.

'Okay, it's okay, I'll stay, don't worry.' Booth told her, softly filtering her hair through his fingers as he spoke, combing out the soft dark strands. Brennan smiled a strange half-smile that didn't reach her eyes and buried her face in his chest.

'Promise you'll stay?'

'I swear.' Brennan kept herself pressed into his chest, her fingers reflexively gathering a handful of his shirt in her slender fingers, the soft cotton gentle between the skin on her palm and tips of her fingers.

'Thank you.' Booth haltingly, hesitantly, let his fingers roam across her back, running small circles on the soft nightshirt she was wearing. He kissed the top of her head, softly brushing the knotted, tangled hair. She let a tear escape from her eyes and felt Booths warm finger flitting across her face, wiping away the trail. She raised her tear-stained face to his and let her head rest on the valley between his shoulder and his neck. Gingerly, he stroked her neck with his fingers, the velvety smooth skin gentle against his gun-calloused skin.

'You should crash again Bones.'

'I… yeah I guess I should.' Booth walked towards her bedroom, one hand resting on the small of her back. He removed his hand and she suddenly stopped, reflexively leaning back against his arm.

'Why did you stop?' He asked her, his hand once again straying to her back.

'You stopped…'

'Oh, did I?'

'Yeah… you did…' Her voice trailed off until it was little more than a whisper so much so that he had to lean in close to hear it.

'Well I think I know why…' He whispered, the words catching in his throat.

'I think I know why too…' He grinned, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly. She locked her hands behind his neck and kissed his lips softly.

'You were right.' She laughed softly before a yawn completely overtook her.

'And so were you, I _do _need to crash.' He took her hand loosely in his own and walked her to her bedroom, waiting politely by her door. 'I promise not to slam it again.' Booth grinned bashfully, shaking his head in disbelief.

'You better not.' She smiled a sad smile and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up around herself. Booth dithered in the doorway for a second, before sliding onto the bed beside her and holding her hand.

'What's that for?'

'When Parker got scared in the night, I'd always come into his room and sit on his bed, hold his hand. You know, just being there for him.' Brennan looked troubled.

'No… I don't know. You've met my dad, he was never like that.' Booth looked surprised, but quickly smothered it, squeezing her hand tightly.

'Well I will.'

'Be like my father? I hope not… that means I'm… sexually attracted to my father.' The last five words were hardly spoken; so quiet that Booth could barely hear them and nearly asked her to repeat herself.

'No, I'll be here for you. And Bones? Did you say… "sexually attracted"?'

'I may have done.'

'Bones, that's not an answer. Did you say it?'

'I… did yes.'

'So you're sexually attracted to me?'

'Yes.' She answered simply.

'I'm still taking this is. You are sexually attracted, to me?'

'Yes!' She was impatient.

'Just sexually?'

'No damn it! I love you!'

'You… love me?'

'Yes! Damn it Booth try to understand!' Booth slipped between the sheet, kicking off his shoes as he did so and taking her hand once again.

'In that case… I… I…'

'You what?'

'I love you.'

'What?'

'Brennan, it's been two weeks. You know what I said a fortnight ago, and it still applies. I LOVE YOU.' Brennan looked shocked, her face blank and expressionless aside from pure, unadulterated shock. Booth cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly, running a hand down each of her arms. 'Now get some sleep. I won't leave you, I swear.'

'I believe you.'

**oOo**

Cam stared down in shock at the offending article on her desk.

'He is so dead. HODGINS!' She called angrily, anger flashing in her eyes as the curly haired lab tech poked his head meekly around the door.

'Cam?'

'This was you?'

'And Wendell, and Sweets.' Cam ground her teeth together picking up the lesbian porn magazine that had been lying on the lacquered surface of the desk.

'You are _so _dead right now.'

'I… I'm sorry?'

'Oh you so should be. Even Angela can't help you now.'

'Oh… oh no… you wouldn't… no…'

'ANGELA!'

'Shit, CAM!'

'Hello?' She poked her head around the door next to Hodgins, a comical effect if Cam hadn't been so angry. She simply held up the magazine and pointed to Hodgins, Sweet's office and Wendell's lab.

'Deal with them.'

'Oh, my pleasure.'

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	7. Chapter 7

**Mweorr! I'm off school and in desperate amounts of pain… so yeah. Hallo… again :D But now, I have a whole new chapter for you all… reviews? Just one or two? It makes me happy and update faster ^_^**

Booth opened his eyes groggily, one arm wedged under Brennans warm body as she slept, completely a dead weight. He raised the arm that wasn't trapped and squinted at his watch, slumping back against the pillows with an almost inaudible sigh. The sunlight was splashing over the covers, shattering and splintering into slivers that penetrated his eyelids and bathed the room in a soft glow. He rolled over, the only way being with his arm resting over Brennans still form, feeling her heartbeat in the palm of his hand – now looped over her chest. She rolled back against his chest, mumbling softly as he stroked the skin of her arm, goose bumps erupting wherever he touched. He felt her hand clasp his, her tight grip reassuring him and the sensation of her thumb stroking his hand making a smile flicker across his face.

'You stayed?' She asked in amazement, kissing the back of his hand.

'Oh yes, you think I'd have left you? No way, not the way your dad was, and how sad you were. I never even thought about it.' He smiled, kissing the top of her head gently.

'I should get up, work…'

'Screw work honey. You can go in any time you like, it's your choice.'

'Booth, I have to. I need to work or I'll go insane. Please.'

'Okay, I'll make breakfast.'

'You?'

'I made dinner!'

'Which is why you shouldn't make breakfast.'

'I didn't poison you!'

'I know, but you might.'

'Now I'm insulted.'

'Sorry.' She looked troubled for a second, before smiling and hugging him fiercely. Booth smirked from his position in her bed before leaping out, smoothing down his ruffled shirt that he'd somehow managed to fall asleep in. 'You slept in your shirt?'

'Oh, yeah. And my slacks apparently.'

'Oh you are _such_ a genius Booth.'

'Not as much as you babe.' Brennan smirked and staggered out of bed, the nightshirt wrinkled and creased, hanging in tight folds around her waist. He wrapped both arms around her waist, clasping his hands around her middle as she sighed sadly, resting her head back against his chest. He walked into the kitchen, ignoring her pointed looks as he started to make… something.

**oOo**

Brennan glanced up, now fully dressed as Booth slid a plate of waffles in front of her with a certain flourish.

'Waffles?'

'Yes waffles. Want some strawberries on them? You have cream somewhere in the depths of your fridge.'

'Thanks.' She sliced off a sliver and tasted it 'Okay...'

'What?' Booth looked more than a little confused as Brennan grimaced.

'Booth, your cooking last night was a fluke.'

'Oh thanks.'

'No seriously, these are toaster waffles. You burned them!'

'I'm so sorry…' He grinned a little.

'And you're supposed to be looking after me.' She sighed in mock exaggeration.

'I know…'

'It's fine, we can just go to the diner for breakfast.'

'Great – go and get your coat.' Booth grinned and stood by the door, waiting for her to appear. He was thinking (a pretty rare occurrence) and the object of his comprehensive thoughts was Brennan. He thought she was coping quite well considering the circumstances – that was until she ran towards him, crying her eyes out. She ran right into his arms, sobbing and shaking as she tried to contain the noise from her distress.

'Oh baby… it's okay… calm down, you'll be okay, everything will turn out okay.' He whispered in her ear, on hand gently stroking her head as she cried. 'Just go down to the car and I'll be there.' She nodded once, still sobbing softly as she locked up, Booths hand resting loosely on her shoulder. They descended the stairs slowly, Brennan's feet dragging as they neared the door, the clouds outside mirroring her mood. He took her hand and led her to his car, unlocking it with a quiet click and opening her door, the black metal cool against his rough palm. She slid in, looking down at her palms and sighing softly, a glittering tear landing like a shattered crystal on her finger. He cast a glance at her and started the car, the large engine rumbling into life as they sped away - towards the Jeffersonian.

**oOo**

Hodgins, Wendell and Sweets sat, more than a little uncomfortable, under the fiery gaze of Angela as she held up the magazine. Her eyes glittered with malice as she surveyed them, pacing slowly down the side of the table opposite the three men.

'Whose idea was it?' She asked measuredly, a glint of humour that she instantly smothered in her eyes. They looked at one another, before pointing in two different directions. She looked them over, grinning and showing a small amount of teeth. Hodgins looked scared, casting anxious glances around the room and wringing his hands in desperation. Sweets, a trained professional, looked a little more cool under Angela's scorching glare. Wendell was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

'Hodgins?'

'N-not me… no way.'

'Sweets?'

'I may have been involved… okay I _was _involved, but I didn't do it.'

'Wendell?' Wendell just squeaked. Angela grinned and skimmed the magazine across the polished tabletop. 'Sweets?'

'Hello?'

'I believe you. Go.' Sweets stood and grinned at the others, waving with his fingers in a slightly camp manner.

'Have fun you guys.' Hodgins and Wendell laughed nervously as the profiler left, turning their attention back to Angela.

'Right. Who bought it?'

'Me.' Wendell muttered quietly. 'Please don't kill me!' Angela grinned menacingly.

'I won't kill you. I know Hodgins put it on Cam's desk.' Hodgins looked scandalised, and a little abashed as Wendell shoved the magazine towards him.

'What are you going to do to Hodgins?'

'Nothing.'

'What?! Why?!'

'Because without you, he couldn't have done it. It was Sweets' idea, I know, but you two carried it out. And the trigger was you, Wendell.'

'I…'

'You will be cleaning my office for three weeks.'

'WHAT!? B-but me? Cleaning!' He sounded scandalised.

'Yes you. Yes cleaning.' Hodgins burst into roars of laughter.

'Angela you are amazing. Did I ever tell you that?'

'Many times.'

**Did you enjoy? Please let me know :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Having just received a spoiler for The Witch In The Wardrobe I am really happy. Kudos Angela and Hodgins. Glad the producer finally got it right and got you together – although jail? Oh Hodgins, why do you fail so at driving? Anyway. Moving on – chapter 8 has landed.**

Booth handed Brennan a napkin from the stack by his elbow and, before she could use it, lifted another one and delicately dabbed her eyes, his fingers softly stroking her warm forehead. Brennan smiled, her mouth and eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as she felt the contact.

'H-he's really gone Booth. I'm never going to see him again.' She sounded so pitiful that Booth could hardly bear it.

'I know… it's just sunk in – but I'm here for you forever.' Brennan kissed his cheek and took a bite of her pancakes – now unrecognisably doused in maple syrup. She took a deep shuddering breath and felt tears start to fall again, turning the pale material of her shirt darker. Booth was at a loss as to what to do now. He was hopeless at things like this. Admittedly, he spent a majority of his time consoling grieving families and friends, but now, someone he was close to… He'd never had to console a friend, a colleague, and a lover? He was unsure if that was the correct word to use about her? Was that what she really was because that was how he felt about her, he loved her. He supposed it was the correct word, maybe they weren't having sex or involved in a long-term relationship, but technically they had slept together and he truly cared for her. Looking, and reflecting, on his feelings for her, he realised he cared about her more than anything – except Parker. Parker was his world, his son and he loved him, but his love for Brennan was a different kind of love than parental; it was a deeper, more primal kind of feeling he guessed he'd once felt for Parkers mom. Sighing softly, he let his hand slide across the tabletop to rest lightly on hers, completely covering her thin, delicate fingers.

'Your hands are so small… it's like they'll break if I hold them too hard.' He marvelled, resting his chin on his cupped palm.

'No, your hands are so big… probably from handling a firearm all the time.' She knew she was talking shit, knew it wasn't true, but told him anyway; glad to have a topic of conversation to keep her distracted.

'Now that's bullshit. Are you gonna eat that?' He pointed to the stack of pancakes with his fork. She looked at the dripping stack and felt the sour tang of bile in the back of her throat. She felt as if she spoke she would projectile vomit, so she simply nodded and pushed the plate towards him and resumed staring at her fingers as he started to devour the sticky sweet breakfast. After a moment, she dropped her hands from the table to her lap and began absent – mindedly shredding a paper napkin between her fingers. Booth rescued the now-in-ribbons napkin and tried to wipe the sugary residue of the syrup from his face.

'Thanks Bones.' He tossed the screwed up ball of paper onto his plate, watching it soak up the lake of syrup in the centre of it.

'Oh… what for? But no problem anyway…' She sounded a little dazed, numb of emotion. She was acting a little spaced out, slightly confused and tired of everything life was throwing at her at the moment. He cast a worried glance in her direction before grabbing his keys off the table and taking her hand; pulling her up and leading her towards the car.

**oOo**

Angela was relaxing; legs crossed and head back in one of Sweets' chairs when the young, lanky psychiatrist and criminal profiler walked in, a surly look on his face.

'Angela?'

'Great deduction Sherlock.'

'What do you want?' He was exasperated. She sat up, crossing her arms and placing both feet firmly on the carpet-tiled floor.

'Could you do a psyche eval on someone?'

'Like? And do I even want to know why?'

'Wendell and could you stretch to Hodgins too? I'm interested in…'

'No. No way am I doing an eval just so you can decide which man you want to date for real.'

'Why not?' She was indignant.

'You need to work it out for yourself, don't keep expecting other people to do things for you Angela. This is a complex matter that you need to spend time thinking over. I'm sorry Angela, you need to do this yourself.'

'So you're not going to help me then?'

'I didn't say that.'

'Then what did you say. Jesus Sweets, stop talking in riddles!'

'I'll help, but I refuse to do an eval. Work it through yourself.'

'I can't!'

'Then I'll give you some tips…'

**oOo**

Brennan was desperately trying to sneak into the Jeffersonian without being noticed by anyone, Booth in tow, when Angela emerged from Sweets' office with a superior smile on her face. She saw Brennan and her face lit up, her eyes glittering as she saw her best friend returning to work.

'Brennan! Oh my God you came back! How could you even think of it, you need more rest sweetie.' Brennan grinned bashfully and slipped her hand inside Booth's as her friend enveloped her in a huge hug that sent her reeling for breath.

'No, I couldn't. You know me Angela, I need to do something or I'll go insane!' Angela nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile.

'Oh I know Sweetie. I have to go, Cam wants to see you by the way… I think she's going to mob you with hugs, I warn you now.' Brennan smiled weakly and let Angela walk away, noting the familiar sway of Angela's hips as she walked. Brennan shook her head violently and continued her walk to her office, concentrating solely on getting there. When she arrived in her office, stood next to Booth and rested her head in her hands, trembling and shaking with sadness.

'Are you okay?' Booth asked softly.

'Do I look it?'

'No.'

'Then there's your answer.' There was a knock on the door and Cam dropped a letter through the doorway, pausing a moment to wave weakly at Brennan who returned the wave with a weary smile.

'You doing better Brennan?'

'A little, thank you Cam.' Cam nodded and left, handing the white envelope to Booth as she did so. Booth passed the letter to Brennan who slit open the envelope and pulled out a plain sheet of A4 with some writing on it. As she read it, the letters blurred and she felt unconsciousness fading. She was already in a dead faint when she hit the floor, the paper tumbling from her nerveless fingers.

**Reviewsies? (just for you rexiebones)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wahey, another chapter for all you lovely people who review and if they don't review, read. But reviews are appreciated slightly more than favourites and story alerts, but thanks anyway. I love you all very muchly :)**

Booth dropped to his knees beside his fallen co-worker and eased the crumpled sheet of paper from between Brennan's fingers. Frowning slightly, he uncrumpled it and unfolded it, reading the few letters on the centre of the page.

_Temperance Brennan, you have never met me but I killed your brother. I'm not going to sugarcoat things, I enjoyed killing him. It was so good watching his body crumple as the front of my car rammed into him and sent him flying through the air. The scent of blood in the air made me more excited than you can ever imagine. I guess you could say I enjoy killing people. But moving swiftly on to the _real _reason I left you this message. I'm going to kill you too; quite soon you'll be joining your brother wherever people go when their mortal lives have ended. You are not superstitious, I know that, but you will soon see your brother again, at least, how I, and I'm sure your lovely partner will agree, quite soon. I hope to see you soon, and you hope never to see me, but you shall, and sooner than you think. As a Winnie The Pooh character may say, TTFN  
X_

Disgusted, Booth let the paper fall from his hands and resumed his position next to Brennan, one hand softly stroking her forehead.

'Bones?' He whispered in her ear, hoping for a response. There was a muffled whine and quiet intake of breath from her prone form on the floor.

'B-Booth?' She whispered, scrabbling across the floor for his hand, wrapping her arm around his waist. He placed an arm under her and lifted her into a sitting position, his hand resting on the small of her back. 'H-have you read it?'

'Yeah… that's some messed up shit Bones.'

'I know…' She fought back tears and bit her lip, squeezing Booth's hand tightly in her own, fingernails digging into the sensitive flesh on his palm.

'I won't let him get you, I promise I won't. You mean everything to me and I'm not going to let some messed up little psycho take that away from me.' He kissed her forehead gently and knelt up, resting back on his shoes.

'You mean that?'

'Yeah. You need a hand getting up?' She nodded mutely and he cautiously took her hands, wary he was going to break her, and pulled her into a standing position, resting the palm of his hand flat on her back.

'Thanks…' She told him softly, wrapping her arm once again around his waist with a now-familiar motion. He tightened his grip around her shoulder, fingers fanning out to stroke the skin on her shoulder through the soft cotton jumper she was wearing.

'It's okay.' He told her, kissing the top of her head gently. At that moment, Cam walked in, checking herself as they saw the intimacy between them.

'Hello again, I had to run sorry. I'm back now though.'

'We noticed.'

'Am I… interrupting something?'

'No, just this, we need to look after her.' Booth handed Cam the letter and waited for her reaction, cautiously watching her eyes darken.

'Too right we do. Booth this is a matter of the greatest importance. This is a threat against one of our most prized workers and closest friends. Can you get the FBI to put a shadow on her or something?'

'I can try, but I don't know if they will.'

'Well what about your boss? He has a thing for her, he'll get some help.'

'Cam, she blew him off for me. I doubt he'll even want to help her.'

'For, for you?'

'Have you not noticed?' He pointed with his eyes, showed her their clasped hands and interlaced fingers. He squeezed Brennan closer to him and Cam suddenly seemed to understand.

'Ah, yes I see the problem. We need someone to look after her or they will get her.'

'What about me?'

'What about you?'

'I'm a trained FBI agent, couldn't I shadow her?'

'As opposed to anyone else?'

'Yes, I'm her friend and she won't object to me staying at her apartment.'

'Friend?' Booth nodded curtly.

'Maybe more let me talk to her.'

'Has she not heard our entire conversation?'

'No, she's a little spaced out.'

'Oh, okay.' Cam told him, looking warily at her friend.

'Bones?' Booth shook her shoulder gently. 'Did you hear any of that?'

'I… you'll be shadowing me to make sure I'm okay. Apart from that, no.'

'That's the only thing you needed to hear. Are you okay with it?'

'Yeah, I know you'll take care of me adequately.'

'Only adequately?'

'Your cooking could kill me.' Booth looked murderous.

oOo

Angela walked towards Hodgins' lab, a determined glint in her eye and in the way she walked.

'Hodgins?'

'Angela? Can I help you with something?'

'You sure can.'

'What?' He felt her hand on his shoulder and looked towards her. 'Oh…'

'Oh is correct.' She smirked and walked closer to her.

'So what do you _actually _want? Apart from sex. And you know, I can read you like a book.'

'I went to see Sweets, and he gave me some tips.'

'On?'

'How to choose.'

'Choose what?'

'You.' She kissed him passionately, pressing herself against him and letting a hand run down his shoulder.

'Right…' he breathed when they'd broken apart.

'I asked him for some help… I needed to pick between you and Wendell. I pick you Hodgins. You're my guy.'

'I'm… I'm your guy?'

'You're my guy, Hodgins. I know that now… I spent months wondering what happened to us, where our relationship went. I know that Wendell was my rebound guy from someone I could never get over. You're my guy, not Wendell, not anyone else. You.' Hodgins took a shaky breath in.

'I'm your guy.'

'Too right you are.' Angela embraced him, holding him tightly and grinning into his chest.

'I'm your guy…' Hodgins whispered again, holding her slight form in his warm embrace.

**Reviewsies? Pretty please? :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**You know what I hate? More than Twilight I mean? Flamers, I really really hate them. Check out the nasty review I got… I don't mind constructive criticism, but just criticism? That's just mean. So Brennan's less of a scientist and more of an emotional wreck at the moment, but in this story she's had some real bad news and has been told she's about to be killed, I think you can let her off for that. And Booth is **_**not **_**stupid, just a failing cook – which is funny. Jeez, do flamers have no sense of humour at all? For those of you, who do enjoy it, sorry for the rant, please enjoy this new chapter :)**

Brennan shivered, tugging her jacket tighter around her slight form as the wind whipped through the thin material of her shirt and jumper. Hurriedly, she slid her key into the lock and slid inside the apartment building, heading towards her apartment with a determined look etched on her face. She unlocked her door and slid inside, closing it with a quiet click and feeling the warm rush of air from the central heating as soon as she stepped inside.

'Temperance.' She stiffened as she heard her name from the corner, sliding her phone from her pocket and turning to face whoever it was in her apartment. It made her blood boil, someone in her apartment without her permission – how dare they! She stood, resolute despite the multitude of bad news she'd received throughout the past couple of days.

'Who are you?'

'Oh you know… the person that brutally murdered your brother.' Brennan felt her temper rise and stared down at the floor, gritting her teeth in anger.

'Why are you here?'

'I told you, I'm going to kill you.'

'I know, but why are you here, here?'

'To kidnap you and take you to somewhere easier to clean in order to kill you.'

'How thoughtful of you, not to make a mess in my home. But there's one flaw to your… admittedly foolish plan.'

'Which is?'

'I have FBI protection.'

'And where is said protection now?'

'At his house, getting clothes. But there are agents surrounding this building.' She lied, her voice beginning to tremble as she frantically thought ahead.

'Then why was it so easy for me to break in here?'

'I don't know…'

'And why is your protection not with us now?'

'He thought I'd be okay in my own home!'

'Stupid deduction, he's not a good agent now is he?'

'Booth is a great agent!'

'So why is he not here!'

'Everyone makes mistakes!'

'And this one will cost you your life.' The man stepped into the light with a grin on his face, his rugged features almost handsome in the dull light. Brennan tried to take it all in, his sandy brown hair that was almost wavy and fell, raggedly cut, to just below his ears. His face was ordinary, green eyes and perfectly straight white teeth set in a strong jaw, no distinguishing features aside from a scar running from the left temple to the jaw which ran diagonally across his face.

'Nice uh… scar you have there.'

'I forget it's there.'

'Why?'

'I've had it for so long. I think my first wife gave me it with a wine bottle… but I forget.'

'Oh.' Brennan's voice was small, little more than a whisper as the man continued to move closer to her, fingers tightening around something he was holding in a clenched fist. With a shiver of horror she realised it was a rope, a long coil of rope that was wrapped up his arm and around his wrists. 'What are you going to do with the rope may I ask?'

'You may. And to tie you up with of course.'

'T-tie me up with?' The tremble in her voice was apparent.

'Of course? How else do you think I will kidnap you?'

'Oh, right, the kidnapping, I apologize.' Slowly, he advanced to her until he was one step away from her, the rope brushing the exposed skin of her forearms. He gave her a grin, which showed his perfect teeth and made the scar look even more grotesque than it already was. Brennan shrank back against the wall and flipped her phone open, dialling Booth's number on the speed dial. The man caught what she was doing and grabbed the phone as Booth answered. Hearing a familiar voice, Brennan drew a deep breath in her lungs and began to scream a description of the man to him.

'BOOTH HELP! 5' 6'' CAUCASIAN! SCAR ON HIS FACE FROM LEFT TEMPLE TO HIS JAW! GREEN EYES! SANDY HAIR! HEL-!' Her voice was cut off as a coil of rope was wound around her mouth, gagging her instantly.

**oOo**

Booth stared at his phone in disbelief as he heard his partner's voice sound from the tinny speakers. His partner's _screaming _voice through the tinny speakers. Immediately, he seized a pad of paper and a pen and wrote down what she had screamed as quick as he could, filling up the space on the sheet with his cramped handwriting.

_Booth! Help! 5'6'' *indecipherable* Scar on his face from *indecipherable* to his jaw. Green eyes. Sandy hair._ Frowning in worry, he read and reread his sheet of paper, hoping for something to come to mind. All he knew was that he was in trouble. He had let the person under his care be possibly kidnapped by the person that had killed her brother. He was in so much trouble. With trembling fingers, he ended the call, which was now just static, and keyed in Cam's number.

'Cam?' He asked as she answered after the first ring.

'Booth? What's wrong?'

'It's about Brennan.'

'Yes?'

'I… left her at her place, for about half an hour whilst I got some clothes.'

'What? Why weren't you with her at all times! Why didn't she come back to your place _with _you?'

'I don't know…'

'Well? Is she okay?'

'That's what I wanted to call you about.'

'Oh no, you didn't.'

'I did.'

'And where is she now?'

'I don't know?'

'And why is that?'

'She's been kidnapped, most probably by the person that killed her brother.'

'How do you know?'

'She called me.'

'She _called_ you? Whilst being kidnapped?'

'She had a few seconds and gave me a description. I'll bring in what I got from the call.'

'You better do, because you have a whole lot of explaining to do.'

'I know, I'm sorry.'

'Sorry isn't good enough for Brennan. You need to find her and also explain to your boss why you weren't there to help her when she got kidnapped.'

'I'll be right in. Get Angela to be there and ready to do an artists impression with the information I've got.'

'Will do.' She ended the call and Booth just stood for a second, staring mutely at his phone.

'I am in _so _much trouble.'

**Reviewsies?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Another chapter because I love you all so very much… stupid Emily, not 1,200 reviews on yours, but hits! You idiot. *glares* Anyway, enjoy and I love you muchly (have I already said that? Too bad, I mean it) :)**

'Booth you are dead meat. I swear to God as soon as we find her you're going to be fired!'

'I'm sorry!'

'Sorry isn't good enough for Brennan.'

'I know! But if I don't have my job and we never find her… what choice do I have? I need my job Cam. I need her, I can't live without either of them.'

'Booth, just… get to work.' Booth nodded at Cam and hurried away, loosening his tie with his fingers as he did so.

'Angela?'

'Booth? Why did you call me in now? I was with… never mind.' She added hurriedly as she caught sight of the thunderous look on her third favourite co-workers face. 'How may I help you?'

'I need an artist's impression using this information here.'

'That's not really enough…'

'DO IT.'

'Okay! Okay!' Angela grabbed her pad and a pencil and began sketching a range of faces, from black through to Caucasian. Booth paced impatiently from the door to her desk, tugging on the cuffs of his starched white shirt and winding and unwinding the tie between his fingers.

'Here, if I had more information I could help more. I'm sorry.' Booth nodded tensely, tearing off the top sheet of paper and perusing it quickly, his brows knitting together.

'Damn! There's too many!'

'I said, it's not very specific. I'm sorry.'

'No, it's fine Angela, you did your best I guess.'

'Too right I did! Now can I go?'

'Sure… Thanks for your help.' Angela nodded tiredly and ran a hand through her hair, yawning widely as she left.

'No problem, she's my best friend Booth, so I should hate you… but I just feel… nothing, find her. Please, I need her.' Booth nodded sadly and retied his tie, running a hand through his hair until it was standing in irregular spikes. Booth pushed back off the wall and took another look at Angela's handiwork, groaning again as he saw the multitude of faces from multiple ethnic backgrounds. He suddenly had a flash of inspiration, an idea that seemed to make sense as he thought more of it, dwelling on that little spark.

'Cam!' He yelled, already formulating a plan in his head.'

'Booth? Can I help you?'

'You most certainly can. You know Brennan's brother was murdered? Are there any suspects? Any at all?'

'There are two.'

'Can you get me the photos?'

'Sure, we got them sent over by the police covering the case.' Cam cleverly used a few keystrokes and within seconds the photos were up on the screen, two faces filling up the small monitor of the computer. Booth held up the page filled with faces and a smile lit up his face.

'Oh my word… Cam, we've got him.'

'What?'

'We found him! The one that has Brennan, look!' Cam peered at the screen.

'I don't know… it's not a good quality photo and they never detained him. They never found him and they're still trying to.'

'Isn't it worth a shot?'

**oOo**

Brennan gritted her teeth against the rope and felt herself pushed against the work surface, her hands crashing painfully on the side. She felt her eyes tear up, not from the hopelessness of it all, but from the sharp pain that came with the collision with the rock hard counter. Breathing heavily as tears pricked her eyes, she felt the rope pulled tight, gagging her completely so that the coarse fibres rubbed and cut into her skin. The man began advancing on her again, another coil of rope wrapped around his forearms and wrists. She scrabbled around behind her on the counter, reaching for something, anything that would be a useful weapon. Her hand landed painfully on something hard and wooden… a spoon? Why did she have to be so tidy? It would really help right now if she had something to smash her kidnapper over the head with. Well, she had to work with what she was given. She managed to curl her fingers around the handle, before realizing, what was the point? Even if she managed to knock him out, how would she get away? More than that, where would she go? And if she didn't, he'd just become enraged more than he was and hurt her more – not that you could get more hurt than being murdered. She didn't have her car, but had some keys. There were no friends nearby, she was too much of a scientist to become friendly with anyone in the apartment building and no one she knew lived nearby. Providing she did manage to knock him out, how long would her remain out cold? Long enough for her to get away? She highly doubted it. All this rational thought took less than a second, although, unfortunately for her, this was a crucial second. The man had leapt over the remaining floor-space and landed in front of her, tying her wrists with the rough coil of rope. She struggled against him, biting down on the rope in her mouth and struggling violently against the tightening ropes around her wrists. Almost immediately after she had felt the ropes tighten until she could barely move, there was another rope being tied down by her feet, binding her ankles together. She saw the man step back and survey his work as the ropes cut ever tighter into the smooth skin of her wrists and ankles. Gingerly, she tried to move along the floor beside the counter, her bound feet making this a nearly impossible task. Unfortunately (seeing as this was becoming a recurring theme for the evening) he noticed and coolly walked up to her, a scrap of dark coloured cotton clutched in one hand.

'Mmhhh!'

'I'm sorry I don't understand. Could you say that again?' He taunted her, waving the cotton in front of her eyes. She glared at him, refusing to give him the pleasure of seeing her distressed. 'Oh well, seeing as you aren't going to indulge me today, I guess it's time to take you away to… well if I tell you, that would be telling.' He smirked at her.

**Did you enjoy – sorry for the wait and short chapter blah-di-blah, my cat got hit by a car and I'm worried, I'm spending all my free time at the vets because we got him home on Wednesday but he's been readmitted today and catheterised under anaesthetic. So, apologies. Don't pressure me for another chapter, I'm under too much stress at the moment, I'm sorry, it's not your fault and I don't know why I'm even saying this. But anyway, reviewsies?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello again :) I'm not letting my misfortunes in life stand in the way of writing because… what would be the point in leaving all you lovely people hanging on and on and on and on and… never mind. Another chapter even though I'm spending most of my free time at the vets it doesn't matter because I'm writing my heart out and pouring everything into it to keep me occupied. Enjoy.**

Brennan regarded her kidnapper warily as he circled around her, the ragged-edged cotton strip clutched in the palm of one hand. Her mind was running through several moves she might be able to use to get herself out of this situation, although self-defence had never considered being completely bound and gagged against a kitchen counter. So her mind drew a blank. She knew there was no hope in her escaping, so she slumped against the counter; still staring cautiously at the man in front of her. He waved the cotton in her face and smirked again, the corners of his mouth lifting as he showed it to her, shaking it out with a flourish. Somehow, she already knew what was going to happen when it did. He pulled the cotton out straight and folded it over, advancing on her again until they were face-to-face with a little more than ten or so centimetres between them. _Oh shit,_ she thought, struggling more violently against the bonds that were holding her so tightly and uncomfortably. He wound the long strip over her eyes, covering them with the dark, soft cloth. It was almost sensual the way he tied it, gentle yet somehow rough that, no matter how she resented it, made her feel a little aroused. Angry with herself, she twisted her wrists so that the rope bit tighter into them, nearly scraping the skin from the soft undersides. The arousal disappeared almost immediately as the pain became too overpowering. He finished tying it tightly over her eyes, the black cotton nearly cutting off the blood supply to the top of her face. Now that she was blinded, her other senses became heightened and she was aware of the smallest sounds from around her.

'Now Brennan. Time to say goodbye to this world and, well, not for you, but hello to the afterlife. Now as you don't believe in the afterlife, you'll be saying hello to the darkness that is death. I do hope you're not afraid because, if you struggle, it makes my job that much harder. But never mind. The struggling makes it more fun, if more of a challenge. Say goodbye – no wait, you can't.' She could imagine him smirking at her, one side of his mouth lifting in a quirky manner. She felt herself begin grabbed roughly from the front, her arms pinned tighter to her sides as she was lifted and rested precariously and uncomfortably over his shoulder.

**oOo**

Booth printed the picture, carefully sliding it into a case file and scrawling the name on the front.

_Dan McCarran_ _– The abduction of Doctor Temperance Brennan and the murder of her brother, Russ Brennan. _He slammed it shut and grabbed his jacket, swinging it over his shoulder in a well-practised motion.

'Cam? Are you coming?'

'Where?'

'To the last known address of the assailant of course,'

'Oh, then yes. Do we want Sweets?'

'Actually yes… we do. You know, we may need a criminal profiler if this man is seriously messed up and insane. SWEETS!' He shouted the last word up the stairs and a disgruntled FBI psychiatrist descended the stairs, yawning widely.

'You woke me.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. We need you now; we're going to catch the bastard that has Brennan. You want to come?'

'Want to? Of course I want to! When do we leave?'

'Now. Get in the car and we can leave.'

'Great.' He sped out of the building as though the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels. At the doorway he paused and turned around with an embarrassed grin on his face.

'Could I… uh… have the keys please?' Booth smiled tiredly and tossed his car keys down the stairs at his colleague and watched him head quickly for the door again, keys in hand. Booth shook his head at the stupidity of his co-worker and headed after him, followed by Cam.

'We have to find him.'

'I know… I was supposed to be protecting her and I failed. I could get sacked for this you know.' Booth sighed and tugged on the sleeve of his black suit jacket, pulling it down so that it nearly-but-not-quite covered the cuffs of his dazzlingly white shirt.

'Yes Booth, I am aware of that, and I wish you luck.'

'Why thank you.'

**oOo**

Brennan felt herself flying through the air for a few seconds before landing awkwardly and uncomfortably on the floor. She was winded for a second, and her arm had landed in a such an awkward position that pain was racing up and down it until she was sure it was broken. Pain caused tears to rush into her eyes, dampening to cotton and making her eyelashes uncomfortably matted against the material covering her eyes. She moved a little and felt pain flare across her hip, stabbing needles that increased until she could hardly breathe, as though the agony was pressing down on her chest, compressing her lungs.

'Well Temperance? How is your new accommodation? For the while at least. I have some errands to run but then I'll be back to make your death highly unpleasant. I hope you have fun while I'm gone.' Brennan took a deep breath in, feeling the lines of pain racing up her side and across her wrist. Her breath caught in her throat and the blindfold over her eyes covered part of her nose so taking a breath in was hard, as though a sponge was pressed over her face. She coughed harshly, causing pain on top of pain in her dry throat. She tried to think, but there was a pain in her head that stopped everything from working correctly, a fuzziness that was blurring her thoughts. A roaring was filling her ears until she realised it was the blood, rushing around her body. The pain was drowning everything, the roaring in her ears began to fade, but then she became aware of every sound, the harsh sawing of her breathing in her throat, the soft clicks of her watch and the sounds of the rope creaking as she began to move. Her senses were heightened again and everything was hurting more and more, the sounds were louder. Her head ached and her thoughts were clouding over. She rolled over a little and pain flared again, forcing her into the darkness that was unconsciousness.

**oOo**

'Cam… Sweets… can you wait here please?' Cam and Sweets looked at each other but agreed, staying in the car as he pulled up to the curb with a smooth motion.

'Sure… We'll see you in a minute then?'

'Yes, I'll signal you.'

'All right then. Stay safe.' Cam overrode Sweets as he tried to speak over her, and Booth jumped from the car.

'I'll do my best.' He headed up the garden path, liberally strewn with garbage and weeds and hammered on the front door with peeling green paint. There was no answer. Within a second, he kicked the lock in and pushed the door open, careful to cover his hand with his sleeve to leave no fingerprints. The rotted wood splintered easily as he applied the force and soon he was inside, smelling the musty air.

'Dan? You in here?'

'Why yes, dear Booth, I am. And I don't appreciate you breaking my door in, very inconsiderate of you.' A man stepped forwards, his scar eerie in the half-light that fell through the windows from the orange sodium streetlights outside.

'Well I apologise. But hey, you have my friend. Now tell me, where is she?'

'Why would I tell you that?'

'Because you don _not _want to fuck with me. Seeing me angry is not pretty, and you would not like it.'

'Well I think I must contradict you, I want to see you angry.'

'Trust me, you don't.'

'Oh I really do.'

'Whatever, just tell me where she is.'

'Now why would I want to do that? Again, please remind me.'

'Because I will kill you if you don't.'

'I don't think so.' The man smiled at him and pulled out a gun. 'I really, really don't think so.'

**Cliff-hanger for all of you :P Reviewsies?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello, I hope you enjoy this chapter muchly and review…? Please? So yes, I'm having a bad week full of downers, but I'm having fun writing this and everything so please make my week a little less shite by reviewing and making my day :)**

The gun changed everything. Booth looked warily at Dan as he circled him, feeling the reassuring weight of his own gun holstered at his hip. Dan slid his finger over the safety catch and flicked it to off, turning the muzzle back on Booth.

'I see. This changes things a little.'

'Not a little. I know you have your own concealed weapon, and yet you've made no move to draw it. I also know you used to be a sniper in the military, and that you could kill me in seconds. And yet you have also made no move to draw your weapon and point it at me. I am an armed man threatening your life. What are you so afraid of?'

'Right… great deductions, now tell me. Where. Is. My. Colleague?'

'I'm not going to tell you unless…' He trailed off and giggled to himself, the scar moving grotesquely as the muscles in his face rippled.

'Unless what?' Booth glared at the man, one hand moving behind him to grab the butt of his gun in the palm of his hand.

'Unless you… no, never mind.' Booth felt his temper rising.

'Now listen here…' He began, striding forwards, completely ignoring the gun. That was his first mistake. He heard the shot and was pushed backwards by the force of it. It felt like someone had punched him in the shoulder and was digging into the bruised muscle with a blunt object. And then the pain came. Waves of agony crashing over his right arm as the blood began to pour out of it, rolling down his arm and beneath his sleeve until a bead dropped from his wrist and hit the floor. Struggling to remain conscious, he saw Dan's face swim into view in front of him.

'No. You listen. Because, Agent Booth, you are not going to live much longer. Not because of that.' He indicated the wound on Booth's shoulder that was quickly dampening his sleeve and soaking through the black jacket. 'That's superficial, but the next one won't be.'

'N-next one?' He grunted through gritted teeth, struggling to keep control of the pain, riding out the waves.

'Yes.' Dan raised the gun again and pointed it at the left side of Booth's chest. Booth, riding on the waves of pain, clutched the butt of his gun with a blood-covered hand and raised it, the movement causing pure agony to shoot through his arm.

'Now who's laughing?' He asked, pulling the trigger and watching the man's head burst open. Breathing heavily, he slumped back against the wall, one hand compressing the wound on his shoulder. Despite the pain, he peeled off his jacket, wincing as the congealed blood pulled against his ruined skin. Breathing heavily, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his shoulder, letting out a barely suppressed groan as the half coagulated blood ripped from his skin. 'This is gonna leave a mark.' He muttered through his teeth and placed a hand on the wound, feeling a circle of metal beneath the palm. The bullet hadn't gone too far in. Gritting his teeth, he placed his fingers on either side of the circle and pulled, feeling each millimetre cause another spasm of pain until the bullet finally dropped with a metallic clink on the floor. He was thankful that he'd worn a vest, and ripped the sleeve off his shirt, folding it over to form a pad. He crawled across the floor to where the still body of Dan was lying; blood pooling beneath a hole in his head where he could clearly see brain matter had dripped out. He pressed the pad against the wound and nearly screamed in pain, fire racing through his entire arm, which had now begun to throb in time with his heartbeat. As he neared the body, he felt himself becoming weak, his vision clouding over. He fought the waves of blackness, shaking his head in desperation and searched for a scrap of material. Mercifully, the bottom of the dead mans shirt was frayed, and he gripped it, pulling the already tested material until a strip of white cotton material was in his hand. He applied the pad again; a part of it now soaked through with scarlet blood, and tied it tightly around his bicep with the scrap of white cloth. He struggled to his feet, pulling himself up using a windowsill until he was standing, ignoring the sensation of the ground bucking beneath him. Pushing down the nausea, he walked out of the door, pausing to lean against the doorframe. He steeled himself and hurried down the path towards the car. As he jumped in, he was crippled with agony when he grabbed the wheel, the position uncomfortably painful for his wound.

'Booth… oh my God. Booth! You're bleeding! What happened?' Cam asked, tenderly touching the bloody pad on his arm. He yelped.

'I'll tell you when we get back. Sweets, drive.'

'Get back? Aren't we going to find Brennan?'

'Unfortunately no. I shot the only guy that knew where she was.'

**oOo**

Brennan bit down on the rope again; hoping rather foolishly that her incisors would be sharp enough to cut through the many fibres that made up the rough cord. The rope on her wrists had not been undone or removed, the bonds had been strengthened with cable-ties and retied tighter so that the break in her wrist was more painful than she could have imagined. She would have screamed if she were able, screamed until her throat was raw and her breathing was painful in her chest. She corkscrewed her wrists until the break became to painful for her to even move it, the bone felt like it had actually moved out of place. Her eyes were bound so she was unable to take stock of her surroundings, unable to look around and see anything that might help her out of her predicament. She contorted her back and tried to reach the rope around her ankles with her fingertips. They grazed the rough fibres and she let out a squeak of desperation, but even that was strangled due to the rope in her mouth. She bent back further, pain flaring across her hip, and dug her fingers underneath a knot of rope, both fingers trying to untangle the tight cords that bound her ankles. She hooked her fingers beneath the knot and felt it give a little, felt the rope around her ankles loosen slightly so that she could move her ankles a little more. She tugged more forcefully at the ropes until the knot undid completely and as she moved on ankle, the rope fell from her lower legs. It was a small victory for her, and she pulled her legs up to her chest. Unable to move her arms from behind her back, she rested her forehead on her knees in an effort to ease her headache. She tried to move slightly so that she was in a more comfortable condition, but every time she moved a little in any direction, a wall of pain would rise up in front of her. She felt tears fill up her eyes and let them dampen the blindfold.

**I hope you enjoyed it :) reviewsies for mesies?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 =D I hopes you guys enjoysies very muchlies :)**

'You shot him?' Cam asked Booth, staring at him with a look of disbelief on her face.

'Yes.'

'And you're sure he's dead?'

'As sure as I can be, and that's pretty damn sure.'

'Booth! He was our only lead! How could you!'

'He shot me first!'

'And your point is! Why didn't you just take him out, cripple him, make him go to hospital but not _kill _him!'

'He also pointed a gun at my chest and threatened to make my heart turn to mincemeat. You think that's not a problem? I have a bloody huge chunk missing from my shoulder and I can barely concentrate but that doesn't matter because I killed out only lead that, let me remind you, tried to kill me!'

'We have no leads! No suspect! No way of finding Brennan! You blew it Booth.'

'He's not a suspect. He was a murderer. He killed Russ and he took Brennan from right under our noses – we only need to find out where.'

'We can do it. The team is a good one, we can find her.'

'Brennan's the best though. Without her we might not find her. This is hard on all of us but please… find her.' He begged her, suddenly angry and distressed at the same time, wanting her and longing to find her. 'He took her and did God knows what to her and we still have no idea where she is. I consider that a damn huge problem.'

'I know, Booth. I know. Calm down, just relax for a second. Cool it.' Cam told him, trying to soothe him – and failing.

'How?' He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, breathing shallowly. Being shot and having a shouting match with your boss whilst bleeding all over the back seat of your car tended to take it out of you.

'We can send Angela and Hodgins back to the house. They can snoop around for any place he might have where he could leave her whilst he…' Cam blanched as though she didn't want to think about it and stopped talking. Sweets didn't look up from the wheel, but opened his mouth as though to say something, then checked himself and fell silent again.

'Spill it Sweets.' Cam told him, wearily running a hand through her hair and closing her eyes slightly.

'Okay.' He looked happy. 'Can you be absolutely, one hundred percent sure this is the man that abducted Brennan and brutally murdered her brother?'

'Yes.'

'Are you sure? How do you know?'

'Yes I'm sure. He used my name.'

'Anything else?'

'No. Except for the massive fact that I can't escape from – he tried to _shoot _and _kill _me. And he did, in fact, succeed.'

'Right, that sounds pretty definite to me.'

'Too right. It's about as definite as this hole in my shoulder that is, by the way, pouring blood.'

'When we get back, I'll fix it. Don't worry.' Cam told the agitated agent softly.

'Thanks.' Booth closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing in and out.

**oOo**

Angela yawned widely, a move that was copied almost instantly by Hodgins as she slid into the leather interior of the car.

'What did he want?' He asked her, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

'An artists' impression. Nothing I can't handle.'

'That's good I guess, shall we go?'

'Are you a lifesaver or what?' She smiled at him and clipped her seatbelt on, her mind beginning to wander in the seconds before her phone rang. The irritating ring tone, a fake sounding, original phone sound that grated on her nerves. She sighed, frustrated, and answered it with a grumpy:

'What the hell do you want now, Booth? You're my friend, but you're already in my bad books and what more do you want?'

'I take it you're in a bad mood?'

'Damn right I am! I need sleep too you know!'

'I'm sorry Ange, really and truly sorry. But I have a bullet-sized chunk missing from my shoulder because some madman that kidnapped your best friend decided to shoot me. I'm gonna beam you an address – look for anything pertaining to an abandoned warehouse, or empty cellar. Anything that could give us a pointer on where Brennan is. And Hodgins too, rouse him from whatever stupor he's in and get going. The FBI CSI team will be there, it's an open Crime Scene at the moment so be _careful_.'

'Okay Booth. And I won't need to rouse Hodgins, he's with me…' She trailed off for a second. 'Hang on, what do you mean, "open Crime Scene"?'

'Um… it's a long story and I don't have the energy to give it justice at the moment. But put it this way – he started it, I finished it. But not before he put a bullet in my shoulder.'

'Sounds incredibly nasty… and bloody… and awful. We'll be there as soon as we can.'

'Thanks, meet us back at the lab when you're done okay?'

'Will do.' She slid the phone shut and turned to Hodgins, her eyes full of apology and unspoken sadness. He stared back at her. She leaned over and kissed him gently. 'I'm really… really sorry… but we have a very important case.'

**oOo**

Brennan wanted to sleep, to feel the release of a deep sleep that sent you comatose for hours, made you feel refreshed the moment you woke up. She longed for it, hoped to black out and escape the torture that kept sending spikes of sharp, fresh pain that kept her on the knife-edge, always waiting for the next one. But she knew that sleeping was a risk, that if she did she might not wake up. Period. She was in bad shape, and she felt it – her left wrist was definitely broken and some of her ribs were cracked, the impact from an awkward fall causing the pressure of her body landing on them to crack most of them. Part of her leg was bleeding, she was unsure about which part, but she knew it was, as every time she moved it it was sticky, and there was a small puddle of blood on the floor. A few moments? Hours? Days? Ago, she'd made the mistake of resting her knee in it, the tacky-to-the-touch blood nearly sticking her knee in place on the concrete floor. There was movement above her; every now and again there would be a footstep or the squeak of an unoiled door, God knows the room she was in was definitely dirty. Dust got up her nose and made her sneeze, a highly painful and difficult experience when you're blindfolded and gagged. And then there had been gunshots. Two of them in quick succession, a loud thud and then silence. Now that was all there was… silence.

**Enjoy… or not… either way reviewsies are much appreciated :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**And another chapter, if I get lots of reviews I'll update twice this weekend :D Which is one a day and you know it, so please please please everyone who favourited or added it to alerts, review for me? Eternal love for you :)**

Booth sat, eyes closed but flickering beneath the lids, his breathing laboured as Cam slowly unwound the ragged-edged strip of shirt from around his bicep. He flinched as she slowly, agonisingly, peeled the makeshift pad form his wound, which was still sluggishly oozing blood in a thick stream down his arm.

'The bleeding seems to be stopping, maybe a little slowly, but definitely stopping.' She told him, grimly pulling on a pair of white latex gloves, dusted on the inside with powder, from the first aid kit by her side o top of her desk where, not too long ago, a pornographic magazine had been lying. The thought made her hate Hodgins with more of a passion than before.

'That's… good?' He muttered, gritting his teeth. Cam slowly extracted a vial of opiate based painkiller which Booth didn't care to even try to pronounce, let alone read in his head and filled a hypodermic with it, carefully cleaning the wound with an antiseptic solution before stabbing his wound with it. Booth grimaced but stayed silent aside from a small squeak when he bit down hard on his lower lip and split it, blood filling his mouth with its salty tang and cloying taste.

'Sorry… this next bit is going to hurt something awful, so please try not to swear too loudly, I would like to keep my eardrums intact for the rest of my life.'

'I'll do my best… but I don't promise anything.' She reached inside the kit again and drew out a sterilised length of surgical thread and a suture needle packed in a sterile plastic sachet.

'Now, this thread dissolves slowly over time as you heal, so I don't need to take the stitches out once I've stitched you up. Lucky for you it's a very small wound so you'll only need a maximum of five stitches to get you all sewn up and back to a version of normality.' Cam threaded the needle expertly and regarded him once more before beginning her job. The first time the needle entered his skin he let out a low hiss of pain and screwed his eyes as tightly shut as they would go, crinkling the skin around his eyes. The second time, right in the centre of the wound, the yelled a string of incoherent curses and insults as loud as he could and bit down harder on his lower lip, drawing more blood that once again filled his mouth with the warm saltiness of his blood. The last two stitches were manageable, easy to blank out the short stabbing pains and pulling as the thread closed his skin back up, cutting off the slow oozing of blood. Booth opened his eyes and admired her handiwork as she prepared a sterile bandage for his wound, once again wiping it down with an antiseptic solution. He closed his eyes again as she applied a gauze and pressure before securing it to his arm with a long white bandage with a cotton wool pad from a sterile plastic envelope.

'Better?' She asked him, packing away the kit and stretching up to replace the used materials from a cupboard full of extra supplies.

'Better.' He agreed.

**oOo**

Angela and Hodgins emerged from the car with their Jeffersonian access badges pinned to the jackets, on main display so that they would be granted access to the Crime Scene. They were ushered under the yellow tape with "Crime scene – do not enter" block typed on it and escorted to the peeling front door painted in a dull shade of matt green by a uniformed young man. He led them inside and motioned for the to follow him into the shabby front room where the still-warm body of Dan lay on the threadbare carpet, a pool of blood spread underneath his head. All around were groups of Crime Scene Photographers and Forensics teams, all busy collecting evidence and snapping photos with their bright flashbulbs and high definition cameras.

'Can I help you?' A young woman with a tired smile on her face, her dark hair hanging in front of her face and she brushed it away, grinning bashfully. Hodgins shook the offered hand and smiled.

'Absolutely. We need permission, without a warrant, to scope out every room in this house for anything that might help…' He stopped for a second and checked himself before continuing. 'Help our private investigation at the Jeffersonian for other matters.' Hodgins thought he'd done a good job at covering himself for his lapse in the last bit of his speech and yanked a mega-watt smile on his face, gritting his teeth slightly.

'Well sure y'all can. Go ahead, but only touch things if you're wearing gloves, the latex kind mind you.' She smiled warmly and Angela noted she had a slight Texan lilt to her voice that was both familiar and comforting. She reached into the pocket of her police issue jacket and brought out two pairs of latex gloves and handed them to the scientists, smiling again. 'Happy hunting.' The Texan told her, another smile lighting up her permanently sunny face. Angela gritted her teeth as she snapped her gloves on, releasing the cuffs a little to early and grimacing as the latex snapped against the skin of her wrist. She smiled genuinely at Hodgins before having a sudden flash of inspiration. Hodgins looked quizzically at her and she beckoned him to her.

'Listen, this house, what if Brennan's here? I'm going to get the schematic of the plans and when we get to the lab I'll put it up on my special machine thing in 3D, updating it with the planning permission through the years. What do you think?'

'Angela, you're a genius!'

'Thanks, right, I'll take upstairs.' Hodgins kissed her softly on the cheek and set off towards the kitchen as she mounted the creaky stairs, each step creating a puff of dust every time she put her foot on the tired carpet. They were both searching for the same thing, and they hoped to God they'd find it.

**Shorter chapter, sorrryyyy… but nevermind, half term after tomorrow so instead of revision I'll be doing this which means I have a lot of time on my hands. Enjoy :) and Reviewsies.. my God I nearly forgot to say that!  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**Another chapter because I love you all very muchly and I would love you more if I get reviews, because I want five more reviews until my next update. Please? Pretty pretty pretty please? Eternal love for my reviewers 3**

Angela emerged from the ramshackle house, an entire forest's worth of paper resting in her cradled arms as she made her way carefully down the path littered with garbage. Hodgins followed behind her, one hand straying out from the protective circle of his arm as he reached for the occasional piece of paper that fluttered erratically away from the reams in Angela's arms. When she finally, mercifully, reached the car, Hodgins unlocked it, clutching several important forms and photocopies from various books and maps in one hand, the car door handle in the other. As he opened it, she dumped the stack on the back seat and rolled her shoulders experimentally, and groaned.

'Tired?'

'Yep. And we have about a million more hours to do before I can get some sleep either.' She cast an agonized look at the tottering stack of papers and slid into the drivers seat, ignoring Hodgins' muttered protests.

'I always drive!'

'Which is why I'm going to drive now, okay?' Hodgins glowered but slipped unceremoniously into the passenger seat, flipping open his phone.

'Booth?'

'You got Booth,' Booth's tired voice rang down the phone, pain in every syllable.

'We've got the blueprints on the house, for some reason, our careful psycho wasn't so careful when it came to keeping important things like building updates and the original blue prints anywhere secret.'

'Really? Well you know what Brennan would say if she were here don't you?'

'Not really.'

'"He might have wanted us to find it, he might have wanted us off the trail."'

'Cheerful Booth. Endlessly cheerful, we'll be back as soon as we can.' Hodgins slid his phone shut and leaned back, pushing himself against the leather seat with a contented sigh. 'You know.' He told Angela, putting his feet on the dashboard and getting them shoved off almost immediately by her. 'I like not driving, means I can relax.' Angela sighed and nearly tutted at him but caught herself before she gave into the temptation to. It was a good ten minutes, maybe more, before they pulled up in the car park of the Jeffersonian, the reams of paper liberally scattered all over the back seat. Wearily, Hodgins and Angela sighed as they got out, knowing how much paper there was, how much time this would take.

**oOo**

Booth was still sitting in the same chair, waiting for the drugs cam had pumped into his bloodstream to take effect, waiting for the almost unbearable throbbing pain to stop. He was breathing heavily, one hand clenching the other tightly, displaying the symbol on his wrist clearly. Every now and again, Cam would walk past and cast a worried glance at her fallen co-worker, watching his pale face contort as spasms of pain raced up and down his throbbing shoulder. When she heard a whimper of suppressed pain, she knelt beside him and placed a hand on his uninjured arm, shaking it gently.

'Booth? Are you okay?' She said softly, checking the bandage again, surprised to see a small circle of blood on her fresh bandage.

'What? Yeah…' his voice was weak, but he made an effort to strengthen it and opened his brown eyes, moving his shoulder and wincing. He stood up and felt the room begin to swirl around him, the walls wavering as if on the edge of existence. He sat down again, dropping into his chair tiredly.

'Are you sure? I can give you some more pain medication if you want.'

'That would be good…' He sighed and let Cam jab another needle, further down in his arm and in a vein, directly flooding his bloodstream with the release of a morphine induced sense of painlessness. 'That _is _good!' He once again rolled his shoulder, feeling a slight pressure but not the pain he had felt before that had crippled him almost completely. 'Thanks, Cam.'

'No problem, it was just a local anaesthetic last time, I'm sorry I couldn't do anything before this.'

'No, it's fine.' Cam smiled as he stood, walking slowly over to the door where Hodgins and Angela were struggling through the doorway with several stacks of paper. They dropped the teetering stacks and stood back, admiring their handiwork.

'That man was a bloody hoarder I swear to God.' Hodgins remarked, dumping the last of the paper on the floor.

'How much paper does a man need?' Booth was standing in the doorway, hands on hips, staring at the piles that littered the entrance.

'Obviously a lot.' Angela supplied.

'Yeah, I think I'll go back to the house, give a statement.'

'Yeah they want you.' Hodgins told him, squatting on the floor with the piles and spreading them so that they could see everything.

'Sure, if you find out anything, let me know okay?'

'Sure.' They replied in perfect unison.

**oOo**

Brennan struggled fiercely against her bonds, ignoring the sudden, crippling pain that every now and again would race through her broken wrist, concentrating solely on her escape from this place of nightmares. She had never been this scared apart from the one time where she was investigating the bones of a young girl, shot in the head and then dumped in the well. When she was ordered to stop and subsequently refused, she had been taken and left somewhere for what she found out afterwards was three days. She had been scared then, but this took it, if only slightly. Her ribs were aching where they'd been broken, and her wrist was just a net of pain that threatened her every time she felt herself falling into unconsciousness. Every time she thought she might get a little sleep, she was rudely shaken into awareness by the pain. She bit down on the rope to stop a ridiculous strangled cry from escaping her lips, and yanked her arm back as far as it would go. The pain was terrible, a corkscrew of agony that sent spirals through her, bringing tears to her eyes and knocking the breath from her body. A throbbing was building up behind her eyes and she closed them again, not that it made much difference with the blindfold tied tightly, catching in her hair and cutting into the sensitive skin of her face.

**Enjoyed it? Reviewsies for mesies :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Fine… two reviews… whatever. I enjoy writing this too much, so yep, enjoys :) (ooooohhhh! I nearly forgot, I just got twitter *yayyy* so if you guys want to follow me… being insanely random - my username is SoullessDreamer) Much love for those of you who did review :D**

Angela knelt on the floor, hunting around for the blueprints of the original house that their psycho had very helpfully saved in one of he 267 drawers, cupboards, boxes and, oddly, clocks they had searched in. After a few moments of trawling through the bottom of the pile, she came across the paper she wanted and unfolded it, heading to her office. She sat down in front of her computer screen and opened the lid of her industrial sized scanner, laying the A3 sheet face down and hitting the faintly luminescent "scan" button. She waited impatiently as it began to appear on the screen, one layer of pixels at a time. As soon as it finished uploading, she loaded a program of her own design and soon, a schematic of the house was up on the screen.

'Hodgins?' She called, laughing behind her hand as she watched him try to extricate himself from the river of paper that was threatening to drown him.

'Angela, hi! Can I help you at all?' He asked, knee deep in a rising tide of plans, maps, pictures and drawings on scraps of paper and giant pieces of paper, nearly poster sized.

'You can. Watch this and see what you can see okay?' Hodgins nodded and leaped from the waves of information, landing lightly on the balls of his feet and hurrying towards her office.

'Right.' He surveyed the screen, standing next to her with his hand resting on the back of hers, lightly touching it with the tips of his fingers. 'What do you want me to see?' She picked up something from her desk and began tapping frantically on it, and Hodgins watched the years roll by on the house.

'There.' She blew up the image on the screen and Hodgins saw it, saw the basement had been built. He checked the year.

'1976. It's old, really old. Could be crumbling, in fact, it might not even be there any more, that's the problem. There's no mention of it being filled in, but no mention of it being decorated or re-dug in any of the 1575 plus pieces of paper we rescued from that house.'

'I know, and that's the big issue with this. She could be there but… there was no door to the cellar, but maybe we could get Booth to check it out when he gets there. What do you think?'

'Yeah, I think Booth needs to know as soon as possible, just in case.'

'Okay, whilst you sort through the mountains of paper, I think I'll see if I can find out if that basement was filled in at some point after 1976.'

'Right. Thanks for giving me the best job.' Hodgins scowled petulantly and headed back to the lake of assorted papers in the front lobby.

**oOo**

Booth was driving when he got the call, and he answered, a very un-FBI thing to do for someone who was supposed to be helping keep the laws enforced.

'You got Booth.' The pain medication was wearing off again and a dull throbbing sensation was once again building in the soft tissue of his arm.

'Booth. The house has a cellar but we don't yet know if it was filled yet, and you said there was no door to it. Keep your eyes open when you give a statement.'

'Will do.' He finished speaking and heard the dial tone burring in his ear and folded him phone down, massaging his painful shoulder with the hand holding his cell. Reverting his focus to the road, he turned the wheel sharply and coasted up to the curb, scraping his wheel and wheel cap harshly against the concrete curb stones. He leapt from it, jarring his shoulder and letting out a hiss of suppressed pain before locking it and heading towards the outer boundary of the Crime Scene tape.

'Booth!' He spun around at his name and found himself face to face with his boss.

'Ah… hi.'

'Yes, "ah" is correct. What were you thinking?'

'I… wasn't?'

'Too right you weren't! You killed our only lead and suspect in a homicide! Why Booth? Just tell me why.'

'He wasn't just a murderer. He kidnapped my partner.'

'He… kidnapped doctor Brennan?'

'Yeah, and he shot me first… so I acted out of self-defence. Right now, I don't care what the police do to me; my partner is my main priority. The entire Jeffersonian is working on tracking her down.'

'Right, so you are here to…?'

'Give a statement,'

'Of course you are.' His boss turned and stalked down the path, heading towards his car with a grim look chiselled on his face. Booth let out a shaky breath and turned back, catching the eye of a uniformed officer.

'Agent Booth.' The uniform greeted him with a smile.

'Hi…' He squinted at the name badge on his jacket. 'Jeremy.'

'Can I help you?'

'Yeah. I'm here to give a statement regarding the death of Dan McCarran.'

'A statement, ah yes, you're expected.' He led Booth through the dilapidated door and into the musty living room, heading towards a uniformed man standing in the centre, coolly regarding the body being removed by the coroner.

'Hello Agent Booth.'

'Hello… I need to give a statement now, I think?'

'You do.'

'Right, should I start from the phone call?'

'Phone call?'

'Ah… right, I'll start there.' His phone rang and he reached into his pocket, muttering apologies and flipping it open. 'You got Booth.'

'Booth, this is so important! There is a false wall with a door that leads to the basement. We've got her. Go.' Hodgins excited voice crackled down the line towards him and as he heard it he stopped, swaying, completely ignoring the pain building in his shoulder.

'Agent Booth? Agent Booth are you okay?' Booth ignored him.

'Where?' He asked tersely.

'The living room, right hand side, next to the fireplace.'

'Thank you.' He snapped his phone shut and strode purposefully towards the wall, one hand raised to knock on it. It was hollow.

**Love for reviewsies *loves you all***


	18. Chapter 18

**I was debating whether to leave you hanging, then decided it was mean. So a fast update. If any reviewers have any friends that will review I'd be happy, because it's my goal to have 100 by the time this is finished… which is about two chapters *gulp* so please?**

Booth could see drag marks where a large, wooden and extremely ugly dresser had scraped what remained of the lacquer on the rotted wooden floorboard off in strips that were now lying in curls on the bare floorboards. He pulled it, grunting as pain flared down his shoulder again. It wouldn't budge at all, as though it had been screwed to the wall. He ran his fingers over the thinner back of the dresser and felt screw heads where their shouldn't be. The bastard _had _nailed it to the wall.

'Sergeant?'

'Yes, Agent Booth?'

'Get me some power tools and some men.'

'P-power tools?'

'Yes, a screwdriver and a jigsaw. Possibly a power saw too,'

'Why?'

'Because my colleague is nailed behind this dresser. Now do you want to help or not?'

'I'll help you.' The sergeant walked swiftly towards the doorway, calling out instructions as Booth sagged against the dresser, his fingers gently caressing the stained, polished wood.

**oOo**

The police sergeant was feeling highly miffed. At the PD, he was a very important man, a huge part of the proceedings; even at the Crime Scene he'd been important, until Booth had come along, flashing his shiny FBI badge and barking orders at him like he was some kind of faithful dog. He grumbled and muttered, but knew that if he complained he could be dismissed, cut out of this case even though it was clean cut, open and shut. He grumbled as he slipped into his police issue car, rivalling the roar of the V6 engine. He pulled away from the curb, heading for the nearest hardware store, grinding his teeth and flicking the safety on and off of his gun. When he arrived at the hardware store, he flicked the safety firmly to on, and strolled genially inside. He waved down a staff member clad in a red waistcoat and black slacks with a plain white shirt underneath.

'Can I help you officer?' He seemed edgy, and the sergeant recognised him as being a suspected drug dealer, though was found innocent on all charges. He filed that away for future use.

'You most certainly can.'

'And how is that?'

'You can get me…' he mentally ran through what Booth needed in his head. 'An electric drill, a jigsaw and a power saw.'

'Right away.' The sergeant pulled out the credit card Booth had shoved into his hand and paid with it, tapping the pin in with a practised hand. As he left, feeling the plastic of the bags cutting into his hands, he caught sight of his helper wiping his brow with the back of his hand and letting out a shaky breath. He laughed inside and unlocked the door of his car, unceremoniously dumping the bag full of power tools on the passenger seat. He started the engine with a growl again and drove purposefully slowly towards the dilapidated house, stopping longer than usual at each stop sign, and taking forever to pull off at every stoplight. When he finally reached the house, he spent over five minutes checking he had parked absolutely correctly, checked his lights were off (even though he never turned them on in the first place) and that his handbrake was engaged. He grabbed the bags from the front seat and made his way slowly up the path, stumbling at every piece of litter and stick that was even a millimetre on the path. It took him five minutes, but he made it into the house with his precious and expensive selection of power tools.

'Why did it take you so long?' Booth was grinding his teeth and standing close to the dresser, the palm of his hand resting on the blistered surface.

'The traffic was awful.'

'At eight in the evening?'

'Yes. And there was a queue at the hardware store.'

'Really?' Booth's sarcastic tone stung, as though he could see through the weak façade that he was putting on, appearing to be blasé.

'Yeah.' He told him defensively, handing the white plastic bags over to the frustrated FBI agent with barely contained hatred.

'You can go.' Booth told him, on the verge of flipping him off as he slid to the floor and began ripping open the boxes containing the power tools he needed. He opened the electric drill first and plugged it in, praying the electricity worked. He tested it and was relieved to hear the reassuring buzz as the motor kicked in and began turning it. 'Lets do this.'

**oOo**

Brennan shifted her head slightly at the sound of hundreds of feet thumping the ceiling above her, her senses were heightened and she could hear the low grumble of car engines on the street outside. The room she was in smelt damp and the floor was cold beneath her thin black slacks and cotton dress shirt she was wearing under her thin black jacket. She rolled over onto her side, the movement nearly killing her, and tucked her legs up to her chest, feeling the sticky wetness and heat of blood that was still trickling from an injury somewhere on one of her lower limbs. She moved her wrist a fraction, the small twitch of it winding her and making her want to scream, a choked out, desperate cry that would break the heart of anyone hearing it. And then she heard something new, the sound of a voice she knew only too well. The other voices faded to a indefineable rumble as this one cut over the top. His voice, her partner's, her lover's, her friend's voice cutting through her lucid thoughts and the other people's voices. He said one sentence that made her heart lift, made her want to fly.

'Because my colleague is nailed behind this dresser. Now are you going to help or not?' She heard his voice, his sentence, and she let herself fall, let sleep overcome her. She was safe.

**Reviewsies for mesies?**


	19. Chapter 19

**Another hopefully swift update, might be the last one for a while because my insane aunt is returning to mine for a week tomorrow. I might die. Wish me luck – and I want to reach my goal of 100 reviews by the time this story is over, so c'mon my lovely lovely people *hugs tightly***

Booth weighed the drill in his hand for a second before placing it carefully on the blistered side of the dresser, marking around the screw heads with a sharpie a police officer had just handed him. He knelt down and opened the cupboard doors that made up the majority of the bottom part and discovered another six screw heads with the aid of his FBI issue maglite torch. He opened the top cupboards too, finding another five screw heads and circled them, picking up the drill again. He set it to reverse and slid the muzzle of it into the screw head, pressing in the trigger until the first silver screw fell gleaming into the palm of his hand. He dropped it to the floor and moved onto the others, each time a screw fell from its place her let out a muffled "yes!" and dropped it to the floor with a metallic sounding tinkle. He ducked down again and knelt on the dusty, warped floorboards in front of the lower cupboard and inserted the drill bit into the screw heads until each one was out of place and the cupboard could be moved. Moved a little too easily. The police sergeant walked up to the dresser and pushed it, the heavy wood tipping over as if to land on Booth.

'Shit!' Booth yelled, throwing up both of his arms reflexively in an effort to stop the heavy wooden item of antique furniture now ruined by years of abuse. 'Why did you do that?'

'Because Dan was my brother-in-law you bastard.' The sergeant spat on Booth and strolled out, kicking him hard in the ribs as he left.

'Jeremy!' Booth called out the only name he could think of as the dresser fell a little further, putting more strain on his injured shoulder causing him to bite down a cry of pain. The young officer walked in, saw Booth under the dresser, and stopped, staring at the FBI agent as the dresser slowly inched its way down, threatening to crush him.

'Agent Booth!' He exclaimed as he found his voice, scrambling across the floor towards the already injured agent.

'Help me,' Booth muttered, straightening his arms in a desperate bid to hold the dresser up. The younger man scooted down and squatted beside him, pushing both arms under the top of the dresser and pushed up, holding the dresser up so that Booth could worm his way out from underneath the heavy wooden item of furniture. 'Thanks.' He helped the young officer push the dresser back to a standing position and dusted down his slacks.

'No problem, need a hand moving it out of the way of the false wall?'

'Please.' They move over to one side and pushed the heavy article of furniture away until it was right up against the opposite wall. 'Thanks, you can go outside if you want.' Jeremy nodded and headed for the door, pausing on the step but then continued on his way toward the grassy embankment outside of the ramshackle house. Booth looked down to the floor and noticed an absence of skirting board on the bottom, and that the wallpaper ran all the way down to the bottom. He knelt on the hard floor and placed a hand on the join between the floor and the wall, and noticed that the wallpaper was not quite secured at the bottom – in fact it wasn't secured at the bottom at all. Returning to a standing position, her dragged the wallpaper back up as he regained his feet, revealing a door.

'Gotcha.'

**oOo**

She woke seconds later. Brennan heard a heavy thud on the floor and winced behind her blindfold, hoping that Booth had nothing to do with it, hoping he was still okay. Her back was beginning to ache from lying in an odd position on the floor, so she rolled over and lay flat, hoping to ease the pain. Her wrist was still unbearably painful, each small movement making agony flare up and race all across her body, through her ribs and into her leg, still bleeding sluggishly. She was lying on her wrists, a very bad thing to do when she was in this much pain, and began letting out a strangled whimpering sound as she tried to move so that she wasn't lying on her wrists, wasn't crushing her broken bone against the concrete floor of wherever she was. At least her legs weren't bound any more; she could move them, but only to roll herself so that she was lying on her side, her right wrist in contact with the ground and her left wrist resting on her hip, less pain surging through it with every beat of her heart. She could hear Booth upstairs, the shoving of something extremely heavy across the floor, her ceiling, finally made her understand she was in a basement. That terrified her. She had always been scared of being in dark, small, underground places (not so much the underground part) since a serial killer known as the Gravedigger had kidnapped her and several of her friends. She still had nightmares, still felt the familiar feeling of helplessness in those dreams, the thrill of adrenaline that made her shaky and sick the minute it had passed. Being alone, in the dark and underground here was making her sick, shivery and absolutely terrified. For some reason she began to feel ashamed, it was a legitimate fear but she was ashamed that if Booth were to break down here and find her now, crying and shaking, what would he think? She was ashamed of herself for no reason, ashamed of what a terrified reaction she was giving to being locked in a cellar. Alone. She could smell the dampness in the air, feel her blood finally stop flowing and slowly cool on her pant leg. He was scared now, scared that she was falling, falling and never going to be able to pick herself back up. She'd lost so much blood and was in so much pain, her wrist spiking pain and her head throbbing. She began to feel light headed; her blood sticky and the coppery smell strong in her nose. Was this it? Death? Was this what it was like? She closed her eyes and felt herself falling, with no intention of stopping.

**Reviewsies or deathsies ¬¬**


	20. Chapter 20

**Penultimate chapter? Maybe. (And for a story that was originally supposed to be three or four chapters, I think I'm doing quite well to be honest) But it's definitely not the end :D Because I've got a taste for writing Bones fanfiction now :D Enjoy this chapter (and remember my goal you guys, don't let me down!)**

Booth turned the handle of the door slowly, feeling the smooth metal rub against his palm like a friendly cat, waiting to be stroked. The catch opened with a dull grinding of metal on metal and he pushed the door open, the squealing hinges cutting through the unnerving silence.

'Stay here.' He hissed at Jeremy as he began his descent into the basement, carrying before him a large torch with high wattage and power. He turned the black switch on the side and it flared into life, illuminating the dark basement steps with a harsh white light. 'Bones?' He called, coughing as the damp air invaded his lungs, the musty smell filling his nose. The silence that followed was thick, ominous, a dark creature that threatened him and his partner in this little house on the outskirts of suburbia. Another smell seemed to hit him, an almost tangible smell that made him stop for a second. Blood. He hurried down the wooden steps, fearing he would put his foot through one if he weren't careful, and landed heavily on the concrete floor. 'Bones?' He called again, scared of what he'd find in this place of shadows and mystery. He tried to shut out the thought that was invading his mind, filling him with dread, but it proved impossible. The fact that he'd even thought it sent thrills of cold down his spine: the place of death. He paused at the bottom of the steep, rickety staircase and stared around him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the murky darkness of underground. He turned the torch around the room and then he saw her, a huddled shape in the middle of the room, lying on her side with her back to him. Slowly, he crept forwards, the torch aimed directly at her. 'Bones?' He whispered, his throat dry. He licked his lips and walked forward a little more, scared it was too late and scared he couldn't save her if it wasn't. He inched closer until the circle of torchlight fell directly on her and he could see the scarlet blood pooling obscenely on the floor beneath her.

'Jeremy? Call a paramedic!' He shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of this empty, desolate room. He took a step closer to her, heart racing in his chest, bruised ribs aching and his shoulder throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. He could hear Jeremy's voice from above his head and then heard him having a one-sided conversation with the emergency services operator on the other end of the line. He slowly sunk to his knees and placed his hand on her arm, feeling her fevered skin prickled with goose bumps. He moved around the other side of her and turned the light so that it was shining on her, her body illuminated by the bright circle of light from the extremely powerful torch. The torch showed up all the injuries on her face, horrific bruising that covered her face extensively from her eyes and down her cheeks. He slowly reached behind her head, his knee sliding over the concrete floor as it landed in her blood. He recoiled almost instantly, moving to a side where there was no blood. He slowly reached behind her head and undid the cruel blindfold that was tight around her eyes, the black cotton in a large knot where his hands were softly trying to remove it. There was no movement from her, not even a muffled cry to indicate she was still alive. The blindfold fell away from her eyes to reveal a cut stretching across her forehead, hair stuck to it in matted spikes. He very softly reached down and pulled the rope out of her mouth, his fingers running gently over the red, chafed skin on her cheeks.

'Bones?' He said softly, shaking her shoulder. She opened her clear grey eyes, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks.

'B-Booth?' She whispered, her voice cracked and hoarse.

'I'm here. I'm here.' He whispered, untying the rope from her wrist, his finger only brushing her broken wrist. She let out a small, breathy scream and tried to fight him off, pain flaring all down her left arm. 'What is it?' He asked her quietly, ceasing to remove the bonds on her arms.

'My wrist… my left wrist is b-broken and… and… I think a couple of my ribs are cracked… please… be gentle.' She whispered.

'And the blood? Where does it hurt?' He whispered, one hand gently slipping onto her shoulder and caressing it softly, his hand smoothing the black cotton of her jacket.

'M-my leg. Right leg… he cut it before he threw me in h-here.' She whimpered, pressing herself against him and sobbing softly.

'Okay… Tempe… I'm going to lift you up, I'm sorry if it hurts but I need to move you out of here and get you to the ambulance okay?' She nodded tremulously and allowed his arms to go underneath her and lift her up, cradling her to his chest. She mewed in distress as his arm brushed her wrist and he pressed a little too hard on her cracked ribs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and noticed, as her hands brushed his shoulder, that it was padded.

'What did you do to your shoulder?' She asked quietly, the strain in her voice evident.

'Dan shot me.'

'D-Dan?'

'Your kidnapper. But I shot him back… and maybe… accidentally killed him.'

'W-why?'

'Because you mean everything to me.'

'Booth… I… I…' She started to cry into his chest, feeling him flinch as her head rested on his upper abdomen and lower torso. 'Your ribs…?'

'The police sergeant decided to drop a dresser on me, but it wasn't that. He kicked me in the ribs with steel-toed boots as he made an over-dramatic exit.' She buried her face in the valley of his shoulder and made a conscious effort to stem the tears still leaking from her eyes.

'Booth?' She whispered from her position against his shoulder, her eyelids slowly drooping as fatigue overcame her.

'Yeah?'

'Thank you…' She whispered as she felt herself falling out of consciousness. She was completely unaware of anything by the time Booth had taken her to the ambulance and they had left the depressing house full of nightmares and blood behind

**Reviewsies for mesies? (or a non-sugarcoated deathsies)  
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	21. Chapter 21

**Okay, definitely not the last chapter because I got given a brand new idea from my very close friends sister :) I love you Jamie and Liz :)**

Booth closed his eyes fractionally and felt into his pocket, wanting the reassuring weight of Brennan lying in them. He slowly crouched down and dusted the dust from his knees before reaching into his pocket and removing his cell, scrolling through his contacts wearily, alighting on one and pressing the call button.

'You got Cam.' He heard on the other end of the line.

'Cam, it's Booth.'

'Booth! Have you got her?' The anxiety in her voice was apparent.

'Yeah… we got her. Meet us at the hospital later.'

'Later?'

'Yeah… they need to get her stabilised before they can move her.'

'S-stabilised?' Cam asked, her voice faint with worry.

'She's in a lot of pain, and she lost a fair amount of blood.'

'My God… Booth… is... is she okay?'

'Would you be?'

'No, I'm sorry, that was a stupid question.'

'Too right… Cam, I need to go, I'm sorry.'

'Okay… Stay safe Booth. Keep her safe.' She pressured him, and then he heard the dial tone that signified she had left the conversation. Booth dropped his phone back into his pocket with a sigh and hurried back around to Brennan's side, slowly working his way through the wall of paramedics.

'Ready to go sir?' The paramedic working on her wrist asked him, pausing for a moment.

'What? Oh… yeah, sure.' Booth answered and clambered in beside her, his eyes travelling over the clinically clean interior. He sat on a bench that lined one flimsy metal wall on the inside, the faux leather sticky beneath him. He couldn't hold her hand; a steady drip of IV fluids was secured in her vein by a strip of surgical tape, the needles held fast in her smooth skin. The other wrist was being splinted for surgery as soon as they arrived back at the hospital, the paramedic crew had already phoned ahead and the Operating Room was prepped and ready. He contented himself with watching her rib cage rise and fall as she breathed; he was happy to watch her sleep, happy to have her close to him. His confession had drawn something from him, something he'd tried to smother beneath a veneer of coolness, hidden deep inside his mind until it was ready to be unleashed. He wasn't in love with her, he didn't love her – he needed her as he needed oxygen to breathe. He needed her by his side, wanted her to be his forever, and love? Well love just came by default, it wasn't an issue, and he _needed _her to live. And that was what shocked him. Not so much that he loved her so much it had developed into a physical need, the fact that he'd never felt this way before about anyone, even Parker. Sure Parker was his world, but Brennan was the atmosphere, his sustenance. And seeing her hurt crippled him inside; hurt him badly as though it was him lying in the back of this ambulance instead of her. He wrapped his arms around his body in a psychological effort to warm his shivering form. He recognised Dan, but the problem was – from where? That was what scared him, that he was forgetting things, being clumsy, making mistakes that endangered her life as well as his professional career. But she came first, she always came first. He shook himself mentally and resumed his watch over her breathing, scared she'd stop if he didn't keep sentry. It was then he became aware that something was wrong. The paramedics were exchanging panicked looks as they stepped forwards, reading a list of numbers off the monitor on a stand at the side of her ambulance issue foldout bed.

'BP's dropping!' One of them shouted to the other, jabbing a needle quickly and expertly into her vein, releasing a flood of clear liquid. BP… could only mean Blood Pressure. Booth was scared now, he knew what could happen.

'Anything?' the other paramedic asked the first.

'Nope, still declining.'

'God damn it!' Booth backed away as they pumped another hypodermic into her bloodstream, another medication that might help her. Nothing.

'We need to get her stabilised!' One shouted, by now, Booth had lost track of who was talking. He turned in time to see the numbers flash red and then stop, and then there was a heavy monotonous wail from the monitor that hung in the air. He slid down against the wall of the ambulance speeding down the highway towards the hospital. His head rested in his folded arms that rested on his knees, tears spilling like oil down his cheeks.

'No…'

**oOo**

Angela slowly turned over another sheet of paper and numbered it for the evidence log, shaking the black marker violently before scrawling her name and initials on a bag sealed with red tape. Hodgins sat beside her, surrounded by piles and piles of paper, now safely enclosed in plastic evidence bags.

'We could be here all night.' She remarked dryly, yawning behind her hand.

'We could.' He replied evenly, dating a bag of evidence.

'Why are we doing this anyway?'

'We seized it all.'

'That means we have to log it right?'

'Right.' Angela gave a groan and turned over another piece of paper, her blood freezing. 'Hodgins… what was that man's name again?'

'Daniel McCarran, why?'

'Do you remember… a few years ago? Booth was taking a man to trial, a certain _Dan McCarran _to a rape and murder trial. Dan got off and Booth nearly went out of his mind. Do you get it now?'

'Yes, yes I do!' Hodgins exclaimed, shock crossing his face. 'But you don't think…?'

'No, I don't. I know.'

'So Dan… Dan got Brennan to get back at Booth for trying to put him away even though we _knew _he did it?'

'Yes.' Angela sighed and ran a hand over her face, completely exhausted. 'How much longer do we need to be here?'

'Until every bit is logged in.'

'I want to go home before… oh.' She paused. 'I would say tomorrow but that would be in 23 hours time. Before dawn would be more apt I think.' Angela sighed again and dropped her papers and marker to the floor with a clatter and stood up, stretching her long legs.

'Yeah… I'd like some sleep too.'

'Then lets go, the cleaning crews can deal with this.'

'What? Bag it?'

'No silly, dispose of it.'

'But we need to log it…'

'Aw c'mon my little conspiracy theorist, you know you want to leave it.'

'Okay…' He took little persuading and within seconds they had left the Jeffersonian Institute and were heading towards the car park with determined strides. Angela slid into the passenger seat and clicked in her seatbelt as Hodgins started the engine with a characteristic rumble. She kicked her shoes off and relaxed, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. 'Do you think Booth knows it's the same person?'

'Not our business. If not, we'll tell him later today, we're going on a trip to the hospital anyway.'

'We are?'

'Of course we are.'

**You guys are gonna hate me for the first part, but it's not over yet ^_^ So reviewsies. Nowsies. Or deathsies, not that I can be bothered to kill anyone :)  
**


	22. Chapter 22

**Apologies for the last chapter, I assumed it was interesting… but I got 4 reviews… great. More than that this time please or death – and this time I**_** can **_**be bothered so yeah. REVIEW. Jeez… I sound like an addict… fine: I AM AN ADDICT FOR REVIEWS ^_^ So help fuel the addiction :)**

Booth pressed himself to the aluminium walls of the ambulance as the paramedics took up stations around Brennan, blocking her from view.

'Cardiac arrest! Paddles!' One of them shouted, his face drained of colour.

'Charging!' Shouted the other, applying conducting gel and cranking the voltage up. 'Clear!' He applied the paddles to the pale skin of her chest, the jolt spreading throughout her entire body. 'Anything?'

'Nope.'

Booth could feel his world dissolving, as if it was never there to begin with.

'We need to get her BP up as soon as we get her heart going again.'

'Agreed.'

'Charging… Clear!' The paramedic shouted again, applying the paddles once again to her chest with a practised motion. He looked hopefully at his partner who shook his head sadly and pressed his fingers to Brennan's throat, feeling for a pulse.

Booth closed his eyes and twined his fingers together, diverting his mind away from the broken body of his partner.

'Once more, then I'm calling it. Charging… Clear!' The paramedic's eyes met and they exchanged grim looks and shook their heads. 'Agent Booth? I'm sorry… we have to call it…' Booth raised his tear-stained face and let out a quiet sob.

'C-call it?' He looked over at his partner, her body still. 'No… no it can't be… no… I can't…' He trailed off with a sob.

'You can sit with her until… until we get to the hospital.' One of them told him, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. Booth trembled and made his way over to her, a tear falling and landing on her bruised, silent form. He took her hand with a gentleness he'd never shown before, and squeezed it gently. He placed two fingers on the inside of her wrist and felt for a pulse, hoping he'd feel one. There wasn't one.

'Bones?' He whispered, squeezing her hand again. 'I know I told you I loved you, but I mean it now, I love you so much and now… I can never… ever… prove it to you.' He stroked her forehead gently and prepared to move away when he felt the tiniest of pressures on the back of his hand; so tiny he could have imagined it. 'Bones?' He whispered, his voice taking on a fervent pitch. He felt the pressure again and hurriedly pressed two fingers on her throat, feeling a pulse – albeit weak and thready. 'Uh… guys?'

'What?' The paramedic turned from writing on a form, and stood next to him, pen in hand.

'I can feel a pulse.'

'Not possible.' But he pressed his fingers to her wrist and started, ripping up the form and dropping the confettied pieces to the floor. 'Sam, call ahead and get the surgeon ready to do surgery on her wrist okay?' The first paramedic told his colleague. Sam looked up, startled, and grabbed the radio hanging in the front; the ambulance driver ignored him as he rapidly relayed instructions. 'You need to be aware that you could lose her during this surgery okay?'

'I guess I'm giving consent then?'

'You are. Will you?'

'She can't, and has no choice. I give consent for this surgery.' He looked back at her adoringly; his eyes filling up with unshed salty tears. 'I love you.' He murmured and sat beside her, holding her hand and watching her breathe.

**oOo**

Hodgins pulled up outside Angela's home, noticing that she was asleep, her head tossed back and her hair tangled behind her head. He poked her in the ribs with a finger and she started awake, glaring at him.

'Thanks.' She told him sarcastically, wincing and rubbing her side.

'No problem.' He grinned and then ducked as she made to slap him around the head. She missed miserably and burst out laughing, clapping her hand to her mouth in a bid to stifle them.

'My God I forgot the fun we used to have.' She said between giggles.

'I haven't. I never did.' He muttered quietly, and Angela caught his hand.

'I didn't mean it… I never forgot a moment of us.'

'I never did… and I never will.'

'This is our second chance; I think we can make it work like we used to. We're still the same people you know.'

'But we aren't… that's the point. We've been changed by our jobs, by Brennan and Booth, by Cam, by everyone we've worked with. We might not have noticed it, but we've changed more than we know. But I think our change is good… good for both of us. Lets make it work.' Hodgins told her, still holding her hand loosely. 'If you want… unless I was just another mistake…' Angela tightened her grip on his hand and turned towards him.

'You're not another mistake.' She told him, and kissed him softly. 'I made a mistake in letting you go.'

'I'm your man?'

'Definitely.'

**oOo**

Brennan began to stir as they arrived at the hospital, pumped full of meds that raised her blood pressure in a desperate bid to stop another cardiac arrest occurring. Booth kept her hand tightly held in his, and as she woke, grey eyes cloudy with tears, she squeezed his tightly.

'Bones?' He murmured, his breath tickling her neck.

'B-Booth…' She breathed weakly, not trying to move. Her ribs were strapped and her wrist was going to be pinned in a pretty routine operation as soon as they were inside. She turned her head to one side and stared at him, a single tear falling form her eye and trickling down her cheek.

'Don't cry.' He told her firmly, wiping it away with his finger.

'But it hurts… and I'm scared.' The end of her sentence was barely audible, a tiny sound that unless he was listening closely, he would have missed it.

'Don't be… I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you.'

'You won't be able to do anything if my heart stops whilst they're operating on my wrist… what if they can't get my heart started again? What if I die Booth?'

'You won't…' He faltered, not knowing whether to tell her she had already gone through it or not.

'How can you know?'

'Because I do, okay? Trust me on this one.'

'Like I should trust you on the existence of God?'

'No… listen, Bones. Trust me okay, you're too tough to die.'

'Too tough? I'm not though, okay, so I can do martial arts and can, most of the time, take care of myself. But Booth… I could die today.'

'You won't.'

'But how do you know?''

'When you've had your operation, we'll continue this conversation. Okay?'

'I…' She looked as though she was going to argue again, but then sighed and nodded. 'Okay.' He kissed her hand as they pulled up to the hospital.

**Okay :) Reviewsies or deathsies pleasies :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Sorry it's been a while D: But I'll try, even though I have another story on the go… so check it out man! It's called Forgetting – and it's a little like "The Man In The Morgue" But it isn't, so can I convince you guys to read? *does the best puppy dog eyes she can manage* There will be no updating for a while, because I have school in two days and also my other story takes priority as this one is nearly finished, but review it anyway ^_^ This is mostly fluff... sorry...**

Seeley Booth sat on the hard, hospital waiting room chairs, every now and again standing up, pacing, and then throwing himself back into a different chair.

'Agent Booth?' he shot up, leaping from the chair and landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

'Yeah?'

'The surgery was a success, she's in recovery.' He smiled.

'Thanks… can I see her?' He asked, flexing his fingers.

'Of course.' The young nurse was vaguely pretty; her blonde hair was tied tightly behind her head but she had a burn across the left side of her face that Booth was tactfully trying to avoid staring at. His eyes kept flicking towards it however, and she noticed his gaze. 'I got it when I was younger, stood to close to a fire, it flared up… and it burned my face, nothing I could do about it.' She told him, not in the least embarrassed about it. He shuffled, a little humiliated, and nodded as though he were interested.

'Oh, I'm sorry…'

'Wasn't your fault.' She smiled at him, revealing two rows of perfectly spaced white teeth. He shuddered involuntarily; something about her openness unnerved him a little. 'Here you are.' She pushed open the door and left him to it. He strode purposefully inside and sat himself down in the chair beside her bed, resting his head on his hands and gazing at her.

'I can see you staring you know.' Brennan told him, a smile playing on her lips.

'Hey, I told you you'd be okay, trust me a bit more.' He smiled and took her hand with difficulty – one was in plaster, and the other had a drip just above it.

'I know… I'm okay.'

'Well you aren't… but you will be when your wrist heals up.'

'Thanks for the vote of confidence.' She smiled weakly and squeezed his hand, wincing.

'Are you feeling okay?' He asked her tenderly, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

'I think it's just the pain… I'll be fine.'

'If you say so.' He kept a hold of her hand and she smiled weakly again. There were dark rings under her eyes that were being heightened by the bright sodium lights in her room and she was trembling with fatigue. Booth weighed out what he was going to do for a second, then decided that he would – no regrets. He stood for a second, letting go of her hand, and then sat gingerly on the edge of her bed.

'Booth? What are you doing?' She tugged his arm, pulling him completely on, surprising him a little.

'Well… I was going to do just that… but fine.' He kicked his shoes off and pulled himself completely on to the pale blue hospital blanket, leaning against the headboard and wrapping his arm around her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest, mindful of his cracked rib. His shoulder throbbed, but he still held her close and ignored it every time it twinged slightly.

'Thank you…' She murmured before she fell asleep, her plastered wrist resting on his ribs.

**oOo**

'Angela… could we… I don't know, take it slow this time?'

'Like?'

'Dinner? A movie?'

'Sure.' She smiled brilliantly and moved from her position on the couch, resting on her elbow. He smiled.

'Awesome.' She smiled and stood up, picking up her wine glass from the floor with a sigh.

'I'm getting some sleep.' She announced, placing her glass in the sink and heading to her bedroom. Hodgins followed her, dumping a can in the bin. She turned, a mischievous smile playing on the corners of her lips. 'No way, we're taking this slowly. You can have the couch sweetie.' She told him, walking into her room and emerging a moment later with a blanket and some pillows. 'It's a fold-out bed.' She told him and vanished behind her bedroom door. He glared at her door for a moment, but then, with a quiet, good-natured chuckle, he turned and walked back to the couch; he didn't bother to unfold it, he just jumped on it and covered himself with a blanket, falling asleep almost instantly.

In Angela's room, it was less than simple. Celibacy wasn't a think she liked, in fact – she resented it with a passion. And yet she'd just agreed to take it slowly with Hodgins. She cursed herself as she dragged a brush through her hair and tied it back, making the job in the morning, or later in the morning at any rate, easier. She got changed into her pyjamas and slipped into bed, underneath her duvet, but sleep was slow in coming. She was still awake when there was the tiniest knock on her door, and Hodgins sidled in.

'Hodgins, what are you doing?' She asked him flatly, sitting up again.

'Um… the sofa was cold? And I was lonely?' He offered with a wry grin.

'Hodgins, do you want to be in my bed?'

'Yeah…' He admitted, hanging his head in mock repentance.

'Fine.' She drew back the duvet for one side and he climbed in, grateful for the comfort that wasn't the sofa. He wrapped an arm around her.

'Night… or, more specifically, morning.'

'Hodgins?'

'Yes?'

'Shut up and go to sleep.'

**oOo**

Brennan had rolled over in her sleep, and Booth was still watching her sleep, watching her breathe. He slowly removed himself from the incredibly small hospital bed and put his shoes on, pausing in the doorway before padding slowly out into the corridor. The early shift, the incredibly early shift was a skeleton crew and one of the nurses was doing her rounds.

'Can I help you?'

'Yeah… could you… tell her I've gone to the cafeteria if she wakes up?' he pointed to Brennan's room.

'I'm sorry, I have rounds to do. I can give you some paper and a pen though, you could leave her a message?'

'Oh, thank you.' The older nurse handed him a sheet of notepaper and a biro and he quickly scrawled a note and slipped back inside, leaving it on her pillow.

_Gone to get food, even FBI agents get hungry you know? :)_

_I'll be back soon _

_Booth x x x_

**Reviewsies?**


	24. Chapter 24

**And sorry for the delay, I've had exams and school work and stuffs. LAST ART EXAM EVER! WOO! *ahem* sorry about that but year 10 is upon meeeee. And I got another bloody flamer on this story – but I guess it's okay because it's sorta sorted out now ^^; and anyways, please enjoy this because the last chapter is nearly upon us.**

Booth winced as he took a tray of grim hospital food from the top of the plastic counter and paid quickly, heading up to Brennan's room. A hand tapped on his shoulder and he turned, one hand already landing on the butt of his gun.

'Whoa! Relax, I noticed you were favouring one side when you were walking and that you were wincing as you moved. Did you hurt yourself?'

'I did actually, but what would you know?'

'I'm a doctor… Can I see?'

'Oh… I'm sorry… yeah, please.'

'Just follow me, we'll go to the clinic.' Booth followed the man, dumping his soggy sandwich in the bin on the way past. The doctor opened the door and motioned for Booth to sit on the bed in the centre of the white room. He sat with a soft sigh end undid his shirt, folding it neatly and placing it on the bed beside him.

'All right, let's have a look then.' The doctor's gloved hands were cold against his warm skin and he shuddered as he felt the smooth coldness spider along his sides. He pressed down on Booth's ribs, and he nearly hit the roof, swearing constantly under his breath. 'I'm sorry, you have two broken ribs on one side, caused by a localised blow to that area am I correct?'

'Y-yeah, I got kicked if you must know.'

'Well there isn't much that can be done for broken ribs I'm afraid, we can put a bandage around the area where the break is, but apart from that there's nothing we can do about it apart from give you some painkillers. What about your shoulder?'

'I got shot…'

'You got shot? And you didn't report this why?'

'I don't need to.'

'Why not?'

'The FBI will have a record of every shot fired from my gun – I have to write a report every time I fire a shot.'

'You're FBI?' The doctor asked nonchalantly, probing Booth's wound in case of any bullet fragments that might be lodged inside.

'Yeah, Special Agent Seeley Booth.'

'Well the stitching seems to be okay, did the hospital do it?'

'No, my friend did it.'

'Friend?'

'Camille Saroyan. She runs the Squint Squad at the Jeffersonian institute.'

'Really? Well she did a good job, the wound is clean and there is no evidence of an infection present. But I'll give you a round of antibiotics in case of an infection from the gun shot residue and some anti-inflammatories for your ribs so that the swelling goes down. The medication we give for the pain in your ribs will also combat the pain in your shoulder.' The doctor handed him a prescription slip and Booth took it wearily, folding it over in his hand and slipping it into his pocket.

'Thanks.' Booth handed him a couple of folded bills, but the doctor pushed his hand away with a smile.

'This is a free clinic.'

'It would be if it was daytime, but it's after hours, take it.' Booth tucked the bills into a pocket on the doctor's shirt and strode from the room, unfolding the paper and reading through the prescription quickly. He walked towards the flashing pharmacy counter and handed over the yellow slip, nursing his wounded shoulder carefully. He handed over the money that covered the cost of the pills and, too tired to even try to speak, made his way back to her room, no longer hungry. He tossed the orange pill bottle from hand to hand and opened the cap, swallowing two with a cup of cold water from the water cooler on her floor and tossed the crumpled plastic cup into the wastepaper basket. His mouth tasted chalky, but he slipped inside her room and kicked his shoes off as slowly as possible, his shoulder throbbing. The bandage around his ribs was tight and itchy, but he ignored it and sat on the edge of her bed, perched with one leg crossed over the other. She rolled sleepily over and he took the opportunity to slide onto the covers next to her, staring up at the while tiled ceiling. She mumbled, half awake and opened her eyes, staring blearily at him.

'Booth… what time is it?' He words were slurred from the medication and she rested her head on his chest.

'Late… or early… whichever you prefer.'

'Late…' She closed her eyes, weary to the bone with the events of the past, her wrist and hip throbbing as she tried to fall asleep.

'Are you in pain?'

'A little bit…' She grasped his hand and squeezed it, gritting her teeth, pushing down the throes of agony in her body.

'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Press the button on the stand, releases morphine… my wrist, I can barely move my arm without it hurting.' Her voice was slurring again and she rested her head over his heart, hearing the strong steady beat underneath his warm skin. She wanted to lose herself in the sound, wanted to feel her heart beat in sync with his. She heard the steady sound and it slowly lulled her into sleep, her mind slowly blanking out and sleep fogging her rational thinking.

**oOo**

Booth stayed awake through the night, his arm around her shoulders as she tossed and turned throughout it. Every time she woke up, sweat across her brow, he would squeeze her shoulders and smooth her hair until she calmed down enough to sleep. At one point, about half past five in the morning, she woke up, tears streaming down her face and buried her face in the valley between his shoulder and his neck as he whispered consoling words into her ear.

'What's wrong?'

'J-just… a nightmare… d-don't worry about me.'

'I will worry, what was it about?'

'It was stupid… but I was so scared…'

'Tell me about it,'

'O-okay… I was in the basement, and I heard him coming down the stairs, and then I felt his hands on me and then there was so much pain I thought I was going to die, and I crawled across the floor, bleeding and nearly losing consciousness and I reached the stairs, my fingers scrabbling on the rotten wood and splinters beneath my nails… but the scariest thing… I thought I was never going to see you again…' She trailed off, tears streaming down her cheeks.

'It was just a dream.' He whispered, cuddling her close.

'I know…' She pressed her face into his shirt and he felt her tears soaking through, the silence of her grief scaring him slightly.

'There's nothing to be afraid of...not anymore. I'm here.'

'Yeah...' Booth felt her trying to push into him further, searching for the comfort that she so obviously needed.

'Y-You've always been here, Booth. T-Thank you.' Booth nodded, because he couldn't summon any more energy. He squeezed her gently and rested his cheek atop her head, closing his eyes.

'And I'll be here for however long you need me.'

**A/N: The last paragraph was drafted by Becky – and much love is for her for that :) Reviewsies pleasies? (She writes Mentalist fanfiction – check her out celtic-dreamscape-94)**


	25. Chapter 25

**Last chapter, maybe…. *insert evil smile here* That depends on how much I love you, and the amount of reviews I get. Eternal love for the people that took time out of their busy lives to let me know how they felt about my story – except flamers *growls menacingly* so yeah, enjoy this :) And it's all fluff… just thought I'd warn you.**

**3 weeks later**

Brennan sat on the interior window ledge of her apartment, head against the cool pane of glass that separated her from the outside world. She pressed against it, the thin sheet of glass feeling fragile, as though it would shatter with her weight on it. She leant her hot forehead on the window and watched the rain slowly slide down the glass and fall in a never-ending torrent that fell from the iron-grey clouds above the city. Her apartment was dark, no light from anywhere, the TV was off, her laptop was closed down and her bedroom light was off and the door closed. She could hear the wailing of sirens in the sleeping city, someone was hurt, someone was going to jail, the same as always. The cast weighed heavily on her wrist, and she shifted it slightly so that it was resting on her other arm, folded over the top. She shook it slowly, pain spiking down as the sluggish curdle of blood returned to her fingertips with a faint tingling of nerves.

She slowly drew her legs up onto the window ledge, her bare feet resting on the painted wood, the cold slowly inching its way up her legs. She wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest and resting her chin on them, almost in the foetal position. The cut on her leg was slowly healing now, but there would always be a long, puckered scar on her calf where the knife had left its unflinching mark on her warm flesh. It was still encased in a thick, soft bandage, and she could feel the bulkiness under her thin pyjama trousers. She stared out at the orange sodium streetlight below her, the rain blurring the outline of it. The streets were completely waterlogged, the rain making rivers on the sidewalk that kept growing under the unending downpour. Every so often, a car would brave the torrent and drive past, sending a tidal wave of water over the sidewalk, windscreen wipers flashing furiously.

'Bones? How long have you been here?' Booth's soft voice filtered through her thoughts and she turned her head a little, catching sight of him standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb.

'A long time. What is the time, coincidentally?'

'Morning.'

'Then I've been here all night.'He took a step forwards, his face full of concern and his dark hair curiously and deliciously ruffled. She turned away again and watched the torrent of rain pouring over the windows and onto the streets. 'Bones, are you okay?'

'What do you think?' Her voice was flat, expressionless. He took some more steps towards her until he was standing behind her, watching the patter on the concrete outside.

'You look awful.'

'Thanks. Just what every girl needs to hear.'

'Bones, I wasn't being serious. You're doing fine.'

'That's what everyone's saying! All the doctors, all the therapists, that's all they ever say to me. But I can't believe it, Booth, I just can't.'

'Bones…'

'Bones what! What is there you can tell me! I just…' Her eyes began to tear up and she rested her forehead against the window, trying to hide the warm, salty tears tracking down her face.

'Nothing. There is nothing else I can say that will change your mind. And I'm sorry I can't make everything better, but I can do my best to be here for you.' She swallowed and resumed watching the rain.

'Thank you.' He stood closer to her and rested the palm of his hand on her shoulder, increasing the pressure slightly as each second went by. In a moment of weakness, she grabbed his hand and pulled it from her shoulder, lacing their fingers together and drawing him closer. He obliged and pulled her off the window ledge, sliding on himself and placing her lightly on his lap with his arms around her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat through his skin.

'I'm sorry about earlier…'

'Look, you were scared and angry. I completely understand.'

'But I don't want you to see me like this.'

'If I can't take you at your worst, how on earth am I meant to take you at your best?'

'I don't… oh.' She smiled and closed her mouth.

'You're learning.' He told her, and lifted her up. 'Now, get some sleep.'

'I don't want to.'

'You have no choice.' He held her tightly in his arms and carried her into her room, his bare feet padding on the carpet in her bedroom.

'Booth! Put me down!'

'Nope.'

'Put. Me. Down. Now.' He dropped her on her bed and sat next to her in his pyjamas, running a hand through his spiked up hair.

'Of course.' He said smoothly, a smirk on his face.

'I didn't mean here.'

'I did. You need to sleep.'

'I want to watch the rain.'

'Too bad, I want you to sleep.'

'Booth!'

'What?' He stretched out on her sheets and with a quick flick of his wrist; he covered her in the duvet. She stretched and laid her cast on the soft duvet, yawning widely.

'I guess I could do with some sleep…' She sighed, slowly subsiding into dreams. Booth watched her for a while, one finger tracing his scar on his shoulder and his ribs aching. Then he stood up and padded quietly out of her room to watch the rain.

**Reviewsies? And I'm sorry it's so short :( **


	26. Chapter 26

**I LIED! Not the last chapter at all :) Because I love you all too much. And I'm dealing with some fucked-up shit at the moment and I need something else to do, new chapter of Forgetting is and I'm waiting for all my usual reviewers to toddle back, so here we are (I am never updating on a Sunday again ¬¬) In this, Booth didn't go anywhere and neither did Brennan or the others :D**

**Christmas**

'How are you spending Christmas?' Booth asked Brennan as she bent over her desk, head buried amongst a tidal wave of paper that was threatening to wash her away.

'The same way I always spend Christmas, Booth. My father comes over and we have dinner, then he goes home.' She told him, looking up for a second as she considered rephrasing a paragraph on a report.

'I was actually thinking… do you want to spend Christmas with me? That is… if you want.' She looked up at her, she supposed, boyfriend and smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks and along her neck.

'I'd love to.' She smiled genuinely and he caught the tail end of it, a grin breaking out on his face too.

'You would?'

'I would, but isn't Parker with you for Christmas?'

'No, he's with Rebecca this year. I have him for New Year.'

'Oh okay, I was just curious.' She added hastily, seeing his quizzical glance.

'Don't you like him?'

'Of course I do Booth! He's your son and I love him a lot, and I know he loves me. I just… have some stuff I need to discuss with you.'

'We can do it now?'

'I don't feel comfortable doing it in the workplace.' She shifted slightly in her seat and bent her head over the paperwork, her hair falling over to hide her face, but not disguising the flush on the back of her neck. Booth seemed to get it, and gave her a small smile that she didn't see.

'Well okay, I'll see you at mine in two days time, about six Christmas eve right?'

'Sounds like a plan.' She agreed, watching him turn to leave. She stood up and walked towards him, kissing him on the cheek and blushing bright red as Angela walked past, looking curiously at them both.

'See you then.' He smiled and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. No sooner had he left and Brennan had sat back down at her desk, Angela appeared in the doorway.

'What was that?' She asked curiously, dropping into a chair opposite her friend.

'What was what?'

'You kissed Booth. I saw you. Why? Are you guys an item?'

'I don't know what that means… but if you mean we are a couple, then yes, we are.'

'I knew it! I knew you guys were perfect for each other, I've been telling you all along.' Angela beamed and hugged Brennan, who looked a little confused, but returned the motion.

'You did?' Brennan smiled as Angela looked shocked and then ducked a swatting hand.

'Of course Sweetie! You guys are so good together. Like Hodgins and I, we just… match. As do you and Booth. Are you going to his place for Christmas?'

'How did you know?'

'The steps of being a couple.' Angela informed her wisely.

**Christmas eve – Booth's apartment**

Brennan stepped inside his apartment, dusting the snow off the shoulders of her white coat and shivering as the warm air inside enveloped her.

'Don't you shiver when you're cold?' Booth asked her, looking the very picture of homeliness with a faded tee and some old jeans on. She glared at him and he gave her a smile, reaching out to take her coat from her hand.

'Don't you have other people to annoy?' She quipped at him, throwing the coat over his face and moving into the kitchen.

'Ouch. Coffee?' He grimaced and glided into the kitchen beside her, catching her around the waist and pulling her to him.

'No.' She answered quickly, spinning gracefully from his embrace.

'Wine?'

'No.'

'Anything?'

'Water would be nice.' She told him, walking back towards the living room and dropping onto the sofa, kicking off her shoes as he brought her in a glass of cold water from the fridge. 'Thanks.' She curled her legs up under her and he joined her, pulling her under his arm. She closed her eyes as he pressed a button on the remote and the television screen flickered into life. He shifted slightly so that she was more comfortable, taking the glass from her hand and resting it on the coffee table in front of him. She pressed back against him, her head completely on his shoulder, her hair flicking across her face and over her shoulder. He watched her for a while, her breathing becoming slower and more regular until she was completely asleep. After watching some ridiculous Christmas movie and deciding that she should probably be awake, he shook her gently and she opened her grey eyes, slightly clouded by sleep.

'Hmmm? What's happening?'

'Nothing, I just thought I'd wake you up.'

'I fell asleep?' She asked, scandalised.

'Nothing wrong with that is there?'

'Oh… no I'm just annoyed that I didn't stay awake to talk to you.'

'Not much to talk about I guess. And you look cute when you're sleeping.' He teased, playing with her hair and running it through his fingers, the strands as soft as silk.

'I do not!'

'You do!'

'Do not!'

'Do!' Booth teased her and wrapped his arms around her waist, her warm body radiating heat. She squirmed slightly against his grip, but conceded that she was too tired to push him off. 'You do.' He whispered in her ear, brushing aside a lock of hair with his hand.

'I do not.' She whispered, too tired to even summon up the energy to scold him properly, content with the fact that she'd get him back later for it. 'Not that I've seen myself asleep…'

'Exactly! How would you know?'

'I wouldn't. But I'm not cute, so I was thinking I would know whether I looked cute any other time.'

'You are cute.'

'To you maybe.' He smiled.

'Too right.' He ran a hand down her arm and surreptitiously glanced at his watch, noticing that an entire hour had gone past since he'd woken her. It was now half past nine, and dark adorned the windows, fat white flakes of snow drifting silently beyond them. For a while, he just watched the snow the same way he'd watched the rain when she was in her darkest hour, watching the bleakness outside. She too was watching the snow, and they caught each other before bursting out laughing.

'What do you want for Christmas?' He asked her as she settled back against the cushions, her hand still holding his.

'You.' She answered immediately, her usual shyness gone when she was around him. 'What about you?' She redirected the question to him, tying her hair back.

'Your hair down for a start; I like it better flowing over your shoulders. I want you for Christmas, you're all I want.'

'What about Parker?' She asked him, untying her hair meekly.

'I love him, he's my son, but not like I love you Bones, you know that right?' She nodded and ducked under his arm, nestling against him.

'I know it.'

'Maybe… one day, we could give Parker an extra special Christmas present, one he's wanted for a while that I couldn't give him.'

'What is it?'

'He wants a sister.'

Silence fell.

**One hour later…**

Brennan finished making her vegetarian alternative to Christmas dinner whilst Booth prepared his, and washed up, flicking water surreptitiously at Booth as he stood with his back to her. Only when, what can only be described as a tide, of water crashed over his back did he look around.

'Was that you?'

'Who else?' She gave him a smile and returned to washing up before he dumped a bottle of cold water over her head. 'Didn't appreciate that!' She exclaimed, glaring at him from a safe distance.

'I did.' She glared at him again and went into the bathroom, returning with a towel to dry her soaking wet hair with.

'Well I didn't.' She told him and began to furiously dry her hair.

'I'm sorry… but you look so lovely when you're dishevelled.'

'Yes Booth, dishevelled does not mean the same as soaking wet.'

'Sorry.' He apologised and moved into his sitting room, and within seconds she heard him whistling tunelessly to some carol playing on the radio. She gave up drying her hair and tucked the towel around her shoulders like a cape. She emerged from the kitchen and noticed he was standing under a sprig of mistletoe that was hanging from the ceiling.

'Did you just put that up?'

'Maybe.' A flush was slowly creeping up his neck and he smiled. 'Well, in the spirit of Christmas, are you going to kiss me under it?' He asked her, a smile that melted her heart plastered on his face.

'Of course.' She checked her watch. 'Ten seconds to midnight.'

_Ten_

Booth put his hands either side of her waist.

_Nine_

Brennan copied the motion.

_Eight_

He glanced up at the mistletoe.

_Seven_

A blush began in her cheeks.

_Six_

He placed a hand behind her head.

_Five_

She put her hands on his chest.

_Four_

He took a deep breath in.

_Three_

She pressed herself up against him.

_Two_

He steeled himself.

_One_

Their lips touched and the spark was ignited. They kissed passionately, fiercely, as though each second was going to be snatched away from them.

'Merry Christmas.' He whispered the moment they broke apart.

'Merry Christmas… daddy.'

**Maybe the last, probably the last. I hope you enjoyed this and reviews are very much appreciated ^_^**


	27. Chapter 27

**I lied again! Two rules:**  
**1. I'm a liar**

**2. If I'm a liar… can you believe the first rule?**

**Anyway, I got threatened with Furbys, and those things scare the shit out of me – so here we go… (And I've had a couple new ideas for this particular story) Booth's reaction… Be prepared. Also, any errors are mine and mine alone - verbs, nouns, spelling, punctuation, all are mine and I apologise :)  
**

'D-daddy?' Booth breathed, hardly daring to believe what she'd said. His eyes were wide with surprise as he stepped back from the mistletoe, mouth hanging slightly open.

'Yes, daddy.' She told him softly, a smile playing on her lips as she watched it sink in. Daddy… she loved that word, especially if it was to Booth. He stared at her, his eyes slowly filling with tears until one escaped and slid slowly down his cheek. 'You're crying… why are you crying?' She asked him gently, her hand straying over his face and stroking the sparkling droplets away with her fingertips.

'Because I'm happy.' He told her, slowly caressing her arm and running down until he was holding her by the hips, holding her to him. 'I'm happy. Bones, for someone so good at your job, you're not that good with people.' He expected her to be offended, instead she smiled at him.

'I know, that's your job.' He laughed softly at this and pulled her into his chest, tears still streaming from his eyes as he felt her warmth filter through him.

'You're beautiful, I love you.' He told her, making her sigh with happiness at finding someone that loved her for who she was.

'Good Christmas present?'

'The best ever, the best.' He whispered, sliding his hands smoothly from her hips to her stomach, resting them there for a second.

'There's nothing to feel there yet Booth.' She reprimanded him with a smile, her voice barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the room.

'I know… I just wanted to… you know, I guess it was just a reflex.' He gave her a smile and she noticed that his eyes were still brimming with unshed tears before she was pulled into his chest and held there, Booth's hand gingerly stroking the smooth skin on the back of her neck.

'I think parker needs to know.' She told him, and he pulled away, looking uncertain. 'He's your son Booth, and if this works out, this baby will be his stepbrother or sister, he deserves to know what's going on between his father and me.' He looked at her, properly looked and nodded once, removing the damp towel from her shoulders and combing her hair with his fingers.

'Okay, we'll tell him on New Years Eve when he comes here, he'll want to know anyway.'

'I know you're still taking this in Booth, and I'm asking a lot, but I think we should tell him together, to prove to him that it's not going to end up like you and Rebecca.' She forced out, waiting for his reaction.

'Yes, you're right Bones. He needs to see that I'm not going to hurt you like Rebecca.'

'He's a good kid Booth.'

'I know.' He murmured into her hair as she nuzzled into his neck, closing her eyes fractionally and linking her fingers behind his back. 'He's gonna be so wired about this Bones, it'll make his year.' He told her after a while, still gently combing out her dark locks with his fingers by the empty fireplace.

**New Year**

'Dad!' Parker's excited voice rang out as soon as Rebecca dropped him off at Booth's apartment and escaped with some other new boyfriend.

'Hey buddy!' Booth said as he opened the door of his apartment wide, allowing him access to the warmth. He lifted his ten-year old up in a bear hug and set him down again after Parker gave a breathless squeal of laughter as he noticed Brennan in the kitchen, leaning gently on the work surface, her dark hair rippling as she turned her head.

'Doctor Bones.' Parker told her seriously, a smile on his lightly tanned face as she ruffled his light brown curls softly.

'Hello Parker, that is my name.' She smiled at him as he gave her a hug and then sauntered over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of coke from the door. An action so typical of his father that she nearly burst out laughing. Booth looked over to her and caught her eye as she struggled to keep in the laughter and gave her a knowing nod.

'Bones, come over here a sec.' He called her over and asked the question with his eyes. She shook her head slowly.

'No. Just… spend the day with him, I have some things I need to do; we'll tell him when I get back. Okay?'

'Sure, I'll see you later?' He let it hang in the air and she smiled, kissing him briefly on the lips as Parker watched.

'You can count on it.' She left to hear Parker's voice ring out as he asked his father:

'Are you and doctor Bones in love?'

**oOo**

The 'thing' she had to do was visit her mother's grave. Not usually a sentimental person, she just wanted to sit and think for a while and clear her head about everything. She hadn't known where she was going until now, and as she sat in the damp grass, still frosted from the snowfall before, she decided that if you wanted peace and quiet, where better to go than a cemetery? She knelt forwards and let her fingers run across the engraved lettering of the headstone, tracing the letters.

'Help me mom…' She said out loud as she had the first time she had visited with Booth encouraging her. 'I don't know what to do. Booth seems happy, and I know Parker will be… but what am I going to do about the FBI? We're not allowed to have a relationship, let alone have sex and get pregnant. Booth will get fired, I'll have to leave the Jeffersonian for at least a year, and I know that I have enough money to keep us going, but… I don't know. I don't know how to face my team, how to tell the FBI that Booth and I are in love. I'm stuck. I don't want to lie, but I don't want to tell the truth either.' She said quietly, staring down at the frozen ground beneath her as tears rolled solely down her cheeks, catching in the wind and blowing onto the ground.

'Help me.' She asked the wind

**oOo**

'Dad?' Parker asked as Brennan stole into the flat, her face red from tears, but also from the wind.

'Yes buddy?'

'You never answered my question.'

'Which one?'

'Are you and doctor Bones in love?' Booth opened his mouth, closed it and looked at his son; his young face eager with anticipation.

'Yes.' Brennan told him from the kitchen, startling them both as they hadn't realised she was back yet.

'Yes.' Booth echoed, smiling as she came to sit beside them on the couch.

'Good.' Parker told them, settling between them. 'Because you're made for each other and now you know it's true.'

'We do.' They said simultaneously. 'Parker?' Booth continued, unsure where to tread in this precarious situation.

'Yes?'

'Bones is… well... you know you've always wanted a sister?'

'No way.' Parker's eyes were the size of dinner plates.

'Yes.' Brennan told him and he looked up at her, tears in her eyes. 'You get a sib- brother or sister.' She corrected herself and gave the young boy next to her a hug. As she felt the fragile life of a ten year old in her arms, and Booth's arm on her shoulder, she gave a quiet sigh. Tomorrow could wait.

**How's you all doing? Pleases review…?**


	28. Chapter 28

**I decided to finish this one somewhere along the line, so, this seemed like a good time especially because my laptop got 100,000,000 viruses and died on me today (Friday 27****th**** August) so, until I get it back from our friend (a trained computer expert) who's fixing it, expect delays. There will be a few more chapters to this story, just hold on tight and… uhm… wait? I think?**

**January 28th**

'Brennan, sweetie, are you alright?'

'I'm fine Angela, why do you ask?' Brennan continued walking, holding herself carefully, keeping her posture relaxed. Angela ran after her, ending up walking beside her and somehow keeping up the pace her best friend was setting.

'Because you seem a little off.' Brennan turned to face her.

'Define "off".' She kept walking.

'Strange, distant, like you have something to hide. Ever since you came back from the Christmas holiday.'

'I have nothing to hide.' She snapped a little too quickly, already tired and irritable due to her hormones being all over the place.

'Then why are you acting like it? You know I love you, but c'mon Brennan, what are you not telling me?' Brennan stopped for a second, glaring at Angela.

'Listen to me Angela, You will shortly find out, now, if you don't mind, I have a meeting scheduled with Cam right now.'

'Okay, but just so you know, you can tell me anything.' Brennan nodded for a second, relenting. Angela pulled he roughly into a hug and Brennan responded, careful of the folds of her baggy top and the way they fell, not revealing anything.

'Thank you.'

'Hey, I'm always here.' Brennan nodded, fighting down the urge to cry; right now, everything seemed to be setting her off. Angela left her to it and Brennan took a deep breath in before tapping briskly on the panelled wood of Cam's office door.

'Come in!' Brennan entered, closing the door softly behind her with a click and turning her attention to the room. Sweets had advised her and Booth to do this together, and so he was already there, tension evident in every fibre of his being. 'So Doctor Brennan, Agent Booth.' Cam was being overly formal, and Brennan suddenly, for the first time in a while, felt intimidated by another human being. 'Why did you want to see me?' Then Cam's face relaxed into a smile and Brennan felt the intimidation and formality that had once been in the air evaporate.

'I… we…' Brennan began, letting Booth take her hand softly. 'I assume, being the observant people you are, you've noticed that Agent Booth and I have a relationship.' Brennan took in a deep breath.

'I have, go on.'

'I also assume you've noticed that I don't do fieldwork anymore since I returned from the Christmas break, and also that Booth has been doing no fieldwork either.'

'Yes Doctor Brennan, now, are you going to dance around it or spill what you're trying to say?'

'I don't know what that means but…'

'Cam, I think you know.' Booth interrupted, squeezing fiercely on Brennan's hand.

'Actually Seeley, I don't. Now, either say it, or get out of my office.'

'Doctor Brennan is…' Brennan knew Booth was always uncomfortable talking about things like these, so she stepped in.

'I'm pregnant.' She stated bluntly. 'The baby is Booth's, I'm keeping it. And I wanted to ask for maternity leave. Booth and I are going to the FBI office to ask for paternity leave later today. I wanted you to know so that… we can do this professionally and get everything sorted. I want my team to know, and I would like it most if I could tell them today. Cam…?' Cam looked shell-shocked, and Brennan laid a hand on her shoulder to offer a little support, comfort her a little.

'What? Oh, right, sure. I'll get them in your office right away.' Cam reached for her pager. Booth hugged Cam and Brennan hugged her too, and then they left, hurrying furtively down the corridor to Brennan's office.

**oOo**

'Angela, Hodgins, Wendell… Cam and Sweets.' Brennan to a deep breath in. 'I paged you here to say that… I'll be leaving in four months time.'

'On sabbatical?' Came Angela's voice from beside her.

'No.'

'Then I don't…' Brennan smiled a little.

'Just, hush for a moment.' She looked at Booth, who took it as an invitation to take her hand and linked their fingers together in a web. 'As you know, Booth and I have been having a relationship, strictly unprofessional of course, but a relationship all the same.' She heard Angela draw in a breath and mutter to herself:  
'No way…'

'From the looks on your faces I see you didn't realize as much as we anticipated. But, I feel that, because you're my friends, my colleagues, and the people I spend the most time with, you have a right to know why.' Booth looked around, addressing the room and then spoke.

'Bones and I are a couple. And Bones is not only the woman I love, but also the woman having my kid.'

'Whoa wait, what?' Hodgins looked at them, his arm around Angela.

'I'm pregnant Hodgins.' Brennan replied frankly.

'But you… you… I don't understand!'

'We've been in a relationship for a while.'

'How long?'

'Five months, give or take a couple of days.'

'And Doctor Brennan is exactly how many months pregnant?'

'This isn't a conspiracy Hodgins. And in answer to your question, I am just past my third month and am in my second trimester.' Hodgins nodded.

'Congrats Sweetie.' Angela walked up to her best friend and hugged her, whispering in her ear. 'I mean it Brennan, I wanna be your babysitter, you hear?'

'I hear.' She smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes. 'I hear Angela.'

'Good.' Angela stepped back, and Brennan found herself being mobbed by everyone in the room, hugging her and congratulating her and Booth. She smiled, but inside she just wanted to fall into Booth's arms, hug him and find her strength from him. He sensed this and walked up to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her passionately, fiercely, holding her to him.

'I love you Bones, my Bones.' He whispered in her ear when they'd broken apart, still holding her tightly in his embrace. She placed her arms around his neck and he held her around the waist, taking comfort in each other's touch.

'I love you Booth, you've shown me everything I need, you've made me be someone who integrates properly in society today.' She smiled and he let out a little laugh.

'Anthropologically speaking…'

'Anthropologically speaking, you should shut up.' He smirked and kissed her again, earning 'awwwww' from the people around them.

'You know Bones, maybe you're right there,' She laughed lightly.

'I'm always right.'

**Sorry for the delay, sorry it's short, please enjoy and review (:**


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